Dayspring
Dawn quietly seeps through the porous fog,
On this, a shrouded, frosty, autumn morn.
The veil begins to lift, the ground to thaw;
As bird, and beast, and flow’r begin to warm.
And sun reveals a bright and blessed new day,
Once hidden by a curtain, thick and cold.
Fresh glories waken, and stretch forth, anew.
God’s mercies for the day ahead unfold.
Oh Son, who melts away the darkest veil;
Who warms the heart that’s filled with joy and grace;
Come touch us with the rays of Thy sweet love,
And let us gaze upon Thy lovely face.
Oh, Dayspring from on high, shine down on me.
I shall, forever, gladly worship Thee.
Lisa DeVinney is a homemaker and mother of six in upstate New York. She enjoys photography and writing devotional poetry in her spare time. Lisa is the author of several books, including a devotional entitled I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes. She also maintains her own website at liftingmyeyes.com
Friday, November 14, 2014
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Sara Kendrick and Doris Culverhouse--United States
Fisherman
By Sara Kendrick and Doris Culverhouse
Swimming, life carefree
Net tightens around the school
Deliverance, grace
May your hook always be cast
Where you least expect fish caught
Synergism, save
These lost fish, grateful intent
Catch and release, Life
Responsible now
Freedom, new life in warm water
Breach, spout words, joy, sing
School of life, protective school
Numbers rise with the right bait
Bait, love, nurturance
Guide... North Star...The leader Home
Reward eternal life
By Sara Kendrick and Doris Culverhouse
Swimming, life carefree
Net tightens around the school
Deliverance, grace
May your hook always be cast
Where you least expect fish caught
Synergism, save
These lost fish, grateful intent
Catch and release, Life
Responsible now
Freedom, new life in warm water
Breach, spout words, joy, sing
School of life, protective school
Numbers rise with the right bait
Bait, love, nurturance
Guide... North Star...The leader Home
Reward eternal life
The Warlock’s Rubric--By John Polselli--United States
The Warlock’s Rubric
Sail down upon the river, child;
Sail on beneath the bridge,
Where lives a hidden wizard, mild,
Providing tutelage.
Drift deep within the darkness, where
His soft voice beckons thee,
And drop thy anchor by his lair--
O, heed his urgent plea:
“Do not release the rose of youth
Regardless of thy years,
For should it fall and wither, truth
And joy shall turn to tears.
Ensnare the springtime in thy heart
Until thy final breath,
For though thy mortal cloak depart,
Thy soul shall conquer death.”
John Polselli’s poetry has been published in many literary journals and is the recipient of several Editor’s Choice Awards. As a poet, John enjoys composing in all traditional forms including free verse as well as inventing his own.
Sail down upon the river, child;
Sail on beneath the bridge,
Where lives a hidden wizard, mild,
Providing tutelage.
Drift deep within the darkness, where
His soft voice beckons thee,
And drop thy anchor by his lair--
O, heed his urgent plea:
“Do not release the rose of youth
Regardless of thy years,
For should it fall and wither, truth
And joy shall turn to tears.
Ensnare the springtime in thy heart
Until thy final breath,
For though thy mortal cloak depart,
Thy soul shall conquer death.”
John Polselli’s poetry has been published in many literary journals and is the recipient of several Editor’s Choice Awards. As a poet, John enjoys composing in all traditional forms including free verse as well as inventing his own.
How Dare You--By Ndongolera C. Mwangupili--Malawi
How Dare You
For Denis, my nephew
How dare you die and leave us wondering
How you dared dying? Is this one
Of those games you like playing -
Missing in action - and your fellow men
In uniform coming to look for you?
How dare you die and leave your child wondering
How possible it can be to know no father? Is this
How silly life can be that you come back
From a soldierly mission only to die of malaria
On a silly Wednesday like an Ash Wednesday?
How dare you die and leave your wife wondering
How a morning bye can lead to widowhood? And how
Stupid life can be when what we see becomes
An illusion of what really is. And there we are -
Fools, chasing our own follies. And life remains life.
Ndongolera C. Mwangupili works as a Senior Inspector of Schools in Malawi. He has vast experience as a teacher of English and Bible Knowledge. Many of his short stories, poems and essays have been published in the Malawi News and Weekend Nation. His stories are anthologized in Modern Stories from Malawi and The Bachelor of Chikanda and Other Stories. His poem “The Genesis” was anthologized in The Time Traveller of Maravi: New Poetry from Malawi. His other poem “Letters to a Comrade” is published online in India on www.openroadreview.in. He believes that there is a thin line between fiction and reality. All that people write is a re-creation of what is already known to the writer and exists not only in the mind of the writer but also outside the writer, therefore, fiction is actually facts written as if they are not facts. He is married to Angella, and they have a daughter Mary Magdalena.
For Denis, my nephew
How dare you die and leave us wondering
How you dared dying? Is this one
Of those games you like playing -
Missing in action - and your fellow men
In uniform coming to look for you?
How dare you die and leave your child wondering
How possible it can be to know no father? Is this
How silly life can be that you come back
From a soldierly mission only to die of malaria
On a silly Wednesday like an Ash Wednesday?
How dare you die and leave your wife wondering
How a morning bye can lead to widowhood? And how
Stupid life can be when what we see becomes
An illusion of what really is. And there we are -
Fools, chasing our own follies. And life remains life.
Ndongolera C. Mwangupili works as a Senior Inspector of Schools in Malawi. He has vast experience as a teacher of English and Bible Knowledge. Many of his short stories, poems and essays have been published in the Malawi News and Weekend Nation. His stories are anthologized in Modern Stories from Malawi and The Bachelor of Chikanda and Other Stories. His poem “The Genesis” was anthologized in The Time Traveller of Maravi: New Poetry from Malawi. His other poem “Letters to a Comrade” is published online in India on www.openroadreview.in. He believes that there is a thin line between fiction and reality. All that people write is a re-creation of what is already known to the writer and exists not only in the mind of the writer but also outside the writer, therefore, fiction is actually facts written as if they are not facts. He is married to Angella, and they have a daughter Mary Magdalena.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Forever There Within Our Minds--By Marcus Omer--United States
Forever There Within Our Minds
( For Chad )
The days of weeping slowly pass,
but still within the question why
a life so young could not last,
and one so dear to us must die.
The answers wait another day,
when all our sorrows will be healed.
The giver of life will have His say,
and life’s mysteries are revealed.
Until that day this void we’ll fill
with memories frozen in time.
A part of you is with us still,
as from these shadows we must climb.
A zest for life, your carefree ways
made bright the path of all you met.
Exuberant thoughts filled your days,
a sunny smile we’ll n’er forget.
We’ll reap those thoughts when days are long,
reflections that you left behind.
Your time with us becomes a song,
forever there within our minds.
Grandpa
Marcus Omer got serious about writing after he retired in 1997. He draws his inspiration from the many emotions we experience in life. He has published Of Sunshine and Clouds with iUniverse and The Winding Road with Shadow Poetry. He’s also published in Snippets, The Magic of Words and several issues of Golden Words.
( For Chad )
The days of weeping slowly pass,
but still within the question why
a life so young could not last,
and one so dear to us must die.
The answers wait another day,
when all our sorrows will be healed.
The giver of life will have His say,
and life’s mysteries are revealed.
Until that day this void we’ll fill
with memories frozen in time.
A part of you is with us still,
as from these shadows we must climb.
A zest for life, your carefree ways
made bright the path of all you met.
Exuberant thoughts filled your days,
a sunny smile we’ll n’er forget.
We’ll reap those thoughts when days are long,
reflections that you left behind.
Your time with us becomes a song,
forever there within our minds.
Grandpa
Marcus Omer got serious about writing after he retired in 1997. He draws his inspiration from the many emotions we experience in life. He has published Of Sunshine and Clouds with iUniverse and The Winding Road with Shadow Poetry. He’s also published in Snippets, The Magic of Words and several issues of Golden Words.
before dusk settles--By David J. Kelly--Ireland
before dusk settles
Herb Robert’s dainty wavering
in the gentle evening breeze …
Hart’s Tongue ferns now savouring
the dewfall, by degrees …
A Scot’s Pine, still, regretting
the limbs it left behind …
Two Goldcrests pirouetting,
their voices intertwined …
__________________
The setting is European, so some of the plants and animals may not be familiar:
Herb Robert is a small pink flower, with delicate leaves.
Hart's Tongue is a fern with a rather peculiar shape.
The Goldcrest is a close relative of the Golden-crowned Kinglet.
__________________
David J. Kelly is an animal ecologist based in Dublin, Ireland. While his day job revolves around science writing, his light poetry and Japanese verse forms (haiku, tanka, haibun and haiga) have been published in a number of journals and anthologies. He aspires to publish a book of poetry one day, when he has enough suitable material. David is a member of The British Haiku Society and Haiku Ireland.
Herb Robert’s dainty wavering
in the gentle evening breeze …
Hart’s Tongue ferns now savouring
the dewfall, by degrees …
A Scot’s Pine, still, regretting
the limbs it left behind …
Two Goldcrests pirouetting,
their voices intertwined …
__________________
The setting is European, so some of the plants and animals may not be familiar:
Herb Robert is a small pink flower, with delicate leaves.
Hart's Tongue is a fern with a rather peculiar shape.
The Goldcrest is a close relative of the Golden-crowned Kinglet.
__________________
David J. Kelly is an animal ecologist based in Dublin, Ireland. While his day job revolves around science writing, his light poetry and Japanese verse forms (haiku, tanka, haibun and haiga) have been published in a number of journals and anthologies. He aspires to publish a book of poetry one day, when he has enough suitable material. David is a member of The British Haiku Society and Haiku Ireland.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Veterans Day Tribute--By Karen O'Leary--United States
Today is Veterans Day in the United States. Thank you to all the Veterans, Current Military Personnel, Law Enforcement Officials and their Families for all the sacrifices they have made or are making to promote freedom and protect people around the world. This is a day to honor you and your partners all over the world that share in a vision for peace. May God protect each and every one of you.
Our Nation’s Heroes
Bless our nation’s veterans,
protectors of this land.
Despite how hard the mission,
side by side they took a stand.
They fought with faith and honor,
hearts filled with country pride.
Defenders of our freedom,
some were wounded, others died.
Bless these loyal heroes,
souls one in righting wrong.
With gratitude, we laud them
for they kept our nation strong.
Karen O'Leary is a freelance writer/editor from West Fargo, ND. Her poetry, short stories, and articles have been published in a variety of venues. She released her first book of poetry in 2011 called Whispers... published by A.P.F. Publisher. Their second project, Snippets...an anthology of short verse, contains poetry from 73 talented writers from across the world and was released in 2012. Karen is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance and the Haiku Society of America.
Our Nation’s Heroes
Bless our nation’s veterans,
protectors of this land.
Despite how hard the mission,
side by side they took a stand.
They fought with faith and honor,
hearts filled with country pride.
Defenders of our freedom,
some were wounded, others died.
Bless these loyal heroes,
souls one in righting wrong.
With gratitude, we laud them
for they kept our nation strong.
Karen O'Leary is a freelance writer/editor from West Fargo, ND. Her poetry, short stories, and articles have been published in a variety of venues. She released her first book of poetry in 2011 called Whispers... published by A.P.F. Publisher. Their second project, Snippets...an anthology of short verse, contains poetry from 73 talented writers from across the world and was released in 2012. Karen is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance and the Haiku Society of America.
The Ocean and Me--By Tom Davis--United States
The Ocean and Me
I love the Ocean
the sound of waves
thrashing the shore
the crunch of wet sand
under bare feet
the smell of seaweed
and baked on suntan oil
the taste of salt water
up my nose
I also love the Smokies
but my heart belongs
to the sea
In his younger years, Tom Davis served as a Special Force Combat Diver. It seems to him that he spent more time on, in, and under the water than as a landlubber. This and other adventures he has written about in his memoir, The Most Fun I Ever Had With My Clothes On: A March From Private to Colonel. http://www.oldmp.com/davismemoirs
I love the Ocean
the sound of waves
thrashing the shore
the crunch of wet sand
under bare feet
the smell of seaweed
and baked on suntan oil
the taste of salt water
up my nose
I also love the Smokies
but my heart belongs
to the sea
In his younger years, Tom Davis served as a Special Force Combat Diver. It seems to him that he spent more time on, in, and under the water than as a landlubber. This and other adventures he has written about in his memoir, The Most Fun I Ever Had With My Clothes On: A March From Private to Colonel. http://www.oldmp.com/davismemoirs
Frosted Panes--By Elaine George--Canada
Frosted Panes
When winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane,
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again;
In that old house, there by the sea, where you wove that tapestry,
With all the glorious memories, of your life upon the sea.
With weathered palm, so deeply etched, with every season past,
You rubbed a porthole in the center, of the frosted glass,
Where outside, in splendour lie, a winter-wonderland,
As halos rose above your head, from a pipe bowl in your hand.
And there upon a rocking chair, as smoke rings filled the air,
We rocked across a sea of dreams, wind tangled in our hair;
To lands I’d never been before, we stepped upon those shores,
And through your eyes I saw each one, and still I wanted more.
The morning passed in dreams between two pairs of eyes of green,
As the world outside, held its breath, in a sea of snowy cream;
And when the chill of winter melted, from the windowpane,
The whistling kettle, on the stove, brought us home again.
You held my hand and looked at me, with that twinkle in your eyes,
And told me you would be my Captain, 'til the day I died.
So, when winter paints those frosty ferns, on my windowpane,
I find myself a little girl, up on your lap again.
Born in New Brunswick, Elaine George spent the early years of her life living in Lorneville (a small fishing village along the Bay of Funday) still inhabited by many of her family members. Much of her writing is inspired by the memories of that place and those wonderful people. She has published two volumes of poetry and is currently writing a novel entitled Out of the Darkness. Many of her poems and short stories have appeared in magazines in both Canada and the United States. Currently she lives with her husband in Wainfleet, Ontario.
When winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane,
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again;
In that old house, there by the sea, where you wove that tapestry,
With all the glorious memories, of your life upon the sea.
With weathered palm, so deeply etched, with every season past,
You rubbed a porthole in the center, of the frosted glass,
Where outside, in splendour lie, a winter-wonderland,
As halos rose above your head, from a pipe bowl in your hand.
And there upon a rocking chair, as smoke rings filled the air,
We rocked across a sea of dreams, wind tangled in our hair;
To lands I’d never been before, we stepped upon those shores,
And through your eyes I saw each one, and still I wanted more.
The morning passed in dreams between two pairs of eyes of green,
As the world outside, held its breath, in a sea of snowy cream;
And when the chill of winter melted, from the windowpane,
The whistling kettle, on the stove, brought us home again.
You held my hand and looked at me, with that twinkle in your eyes,
And told me you would be my Captain, 'til the day I died.
So, when winter paints those frosty ferns, on my windowpane,
I find myself a little girl, up on your lap again.
Born in New Brunswick, Elaine George spent the early years of her life living in Lorneville (a small fishing village along the Bay of Funday) still inhabited by many of her family members. Much of her writing is inspired by the memories of that place and those wonderful people. She has published two volumes of poetry and is currently writing a novel entitled Out of the Darkness. Many of her poems and short stories have appeared in magazines in both Canada and the United States. Currently she lives with her husband in Wainfleet, Ontario.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Hey Hank, Did You Just--By Tim Ryerson--United States
Hey Hank, Did You Just -
hi-jack my haiku?
Hah! You hi-jacked the wrong ku
You stole a senryu
I hide my haikus
safe and sound beneath silly...
senryus such as this
Hark and heed this Hank!
Stealing somebody’s senryu
is scandalous BUT
heisting haikus or
holding a haiku hostage
Have you no heart, Hank?
Tim Ryerson is a published poet from Ponchatoula, Louisiana who retired from the printing business in 2011. He began writing in the 80’s but did not take it seriously until 2001 after the untimely death of his then 21 year old son. He does not have a ‘signature style’ but prefers writing different forms of poetry. Many of his poems use southern slang and Cajun dialect. He also enjoys writing humorous poems, especially limericks and senryu and was among the winners in the latest Humor Press writing contest with his entry “Emergency Rooms Just KILL me.”
hi-jack my haiku?
Hah! You hi-jacked the wrong ku
You stole a senryu
I hide my haikus
safe and sound beneath silly...
senryus such as this
Hark and heed this Hank!
Stealing somebody’s senryu
is scandalous BUT
heisting haikus or
holding a haiku hostage
Have you no heart, Hank?
Tim Ryerson is a published poet from Ponchatoula, Louisiana who retired from the printing business in 2011. He began writing in the 80’s but did not take it seriously until 2001 after the untimely death of his then 21 year old son. He does not have a ‘signature style’ but prefers writing different forms of poetry. Many of his poems use southern slang and Cajun dialect. He also enjoys writing humorous poems, especially limericks and senryu and was among the winners in the latest Humor Press writing contest with his entry “Emergency Rooms Just KILL me.”
memories...By Gert W. Knop--Germany
In my memories
Edinburgh in mist
Raindrops like dew
Gert W. Knop, born in 1943, studies art and tropical agriculture in Germany and Scotland (University of Edinburgh). He has lived in many different countries and writes mainly in German, English and Spanish. He currently resides in Zittau (Saxony), Germany.
Edinburgh in mist
Raindrops like dew
Gert W. Knop, born in 1943, studies art and tropical agriculture in Germany and Scotland (University of Edinburgh). He has lived in many different countries and writes mainly in German, English and Spanish. He currently resides in Zittau (Saxony), Germany.
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Winter Wonderland--By Christine Tate--United States
Winter Wonderland
Winter makes its grand debut
as it obeys the good Lord's cue.
old man sun sneaks a peek
behind clouds with fuchsia streaks.
hearth and home are a retreat
from blustery winds, snow and sleet...
cozy blankets keep us snug
like a fuzzy big bear rug.
while children skate on frozen ponds
shivering moms and dads look on.
riding sleds down icy hills,
invigorated by the thrills...
it's a picture postcard sight,
a winter wonderland delight!
Christine Tate lives in New Jersey. She is the mother of three married sons and has eight grandchildren. She started writing inspirational poetry in 1994, and is blessed to encourage others and honor the Lord. She was widowed in 2007 and met her new husband Artie, a widower, in the nursing facility where their late mothers resided. They've been happily married for 2 1/2 years. Since neither of them ever expected to marry again, they consider it a "divine appt."
Winter makes its grand debut
as it obeys the good Lord's cue.
old man sun sneaks a peek
behind clouds with fuchsia streaks.
hearth and home are a retreat
from blustery winds, snow and sleet...
cozy blankets keep us snug
like a fuzzy big bear rug.
while children skate on frozen ponds
shivering moms and dads look on.
riding sleds down icy hills,
invigorated by the thrills...
it's a picture postcard sight,
a winter wonderland delight!
Christine Tate lives in New Jersey. She is the mother of three married sons and has eight grandchildren. She started writing inspirational poetry in 1994, and is blessed to encourage others and honor the Lord. She was widowed in 2007 and met her new husband Artie, a widower, in the nursing facility where their late mothers resided. They've been happily married for 2 1/2 years. Since neither of them ever expected to marry again, they consider it a "divine appt."
Adieu...--By Dr. Upma A. Sharma--India
Adieu to green sheet,
Twilight lends its orange charm,
Crispy brown runway,
Yellow beguiles all around,
Reddish hue across the blue !
Passion for poetry can turn anyone crazy, Dr. Upma A. Sharma has proved this so well. She finds time from her busy schedule to satiate her appetite for words, words that rhyme with her heart. She feels that nothing in this world happens without a reason and so is poetry. This indeed is a purposeful expression of emotions and thoughts that are well oxygenated before putting them into circulation, and positive words certainly are a way to serenity.
Twilight lends its orange charm,
Crispy brown runway,
Yellow beguiles all around,
Reddish hue across the blue !
Passion for poetry can turn anyone crazy, Dr. Upma A. Sharma has proved this so well. She finds time from her busy schedule to satiate her appetite for words, words that rhyme with her heart. She feels that nothing in this world happens without a reason and so is poetry. This indeed is a purposeful expression of emotions and thoughts that are well oxygenated before putting them into circulation, and positive words certainly are a way to serenity.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
If Walls Could Talk--By Peter Dome--United Kingdom
If Walls Could Talk
The moonlight creeps in like a thief
through an arched Gothic window,
casting dark, long shadows
upon cold sandstone walls.
There's an eerie silence
that whispers to the imagination,
echoing through empty halls.
Spider webs furnish the rooms
and hang precariously from old oak beams,
a huge fireplace now unused
with burned out embers in the grate.
The chandeliers burn no more.
Mice scurry on cold granite floors.
If walls could talk and reveal the history
of happy and sad times
that remain now a mystery.
Hi, my name is Pete. I live in Sheffield, U.K. I hope you enjoy my poems. I look forward to reading yours. My best wishes. Pete.
The moonlight creeps in like a thief
through an arched Gothic window,
casting dark, long shadows
upon cold sandstone walls.
There's an eerie silence
that whispers to the imagination,
echoing through empty halls.
Spider webs furnish the rooms
and hang precariously from old oak beams,
a huge fireplace now unused
with burned out embers in the grate.
The chandeliers burn no more.
Mice scurry on cold granite floors.
If walls could talk and reveal the history
of happy and sad times
that remain now a mystery.
Hi, my name is Pete. I live in Sheffield, U.K. I hope you enjoy my poems. I look forward to reading yours. My best wishes. Pete.
Haiku/Senryu--By Robert Epstein--United States
sun behind clouds
a stranger not yet open
to kindness
_______________
Father's Day
I sign the card and
give it to myself
_______________
popsicle stick
the past still tastes
purple
_______________
apple tree
I give it a shake
and forgive myself
_______________
Robert Epstein is a licensed psychologist who lives and works in the San Francisco Bay Area. He has edited several anthologies: The Breath of Surrender: A Collection of Recovery-Oriented Haiku; Dreams Wander On: Contemporary Poems of Death Awareness; and The Temple Bell Stops: Contemporary Poems of Grief, Loss and Change; as well as two books of haiku: Checkout Time is Noon: Death Awareness Haiku; and A Walk Around Spring Lake: Haiku. He is currently editing another anthology, The Sacred in Contemporary Haiku, due to be released in 2014.
a stranger not yet open
to kindness
_______________
Father's Day
I sign the card and
give it to myself
_______________
popsicle stick
the past still tastes
purple
_______________
apple tree
I give it a shake
and forgive myself
_______________
Robert Epstein is a licensed psychologist who lives and works in the San Francisco Bay Area. He has edited several anthologies: The Breath of Surrender: A Collection of Recovery-Oriented Haiku; Dreams Wander On: Contemporary Poems of Death Awareness; and The Temple Bell Stops: Contemporary Poems of Grief, Loss and Change; as well as two books of haiku: Checkout Time is Noon: Death Awareness Haiku; and A Walk Around Spring Lake: Haiku. He is currently editing another anthology, The Sacred in Contemporary Haiku, due to be released in 2014.
Friday, November 7, 2014
Revelations of Sight and Soul--By Jean Calkins--United States
Revelations of Sight and Soul
Sun reflects off virgin clouds
that scud over autumn-hued mountaintops.
Cool nights, warm days, have painted
the trees with muted shades of red,
yellow, orange, brown—a masterpiece
only possible at a Master’s hand.
Far from city lights, the glories of nature
abound, soothing the heart and soul
of a transient drifter, blocking out doomsday
newscasts of a war-ravaged nation.
Back to nature, the simpler life,
though even this is tainted by life-long
experiences in a world of chaos,
the search for a calm existence where artificial
supplementation gives false courage and hope.
The life, death and resurrection of the seasons
provide a blueprint, a promise ages-old
to those with the vision to read its message.
Jean, at 80, has been writing poems since she was 18. For 25 years she published a popular poetry quarterly of up to 100 pages, with a subscribership of nearly 500. Illness in 1986 ended the magazine. She currently publishes, by email, a 2-page monthly of clean humor. Contact her at jcalkins01@charter.net.
Sun reflects off virgin clouds
that scud over autumn-hued mountaintops.
Cool nights, warm days, have painted
the trees with muted shades of red,
yellow, orange, brown—a masterpiece
only possible at a Master’s hand.
Far from city lights, the glories of nature
abound, soothing the heart and soul
of a transient drifter, blocking out doomsday
newscasts of a war-ravaged nation.
Back to nature, the simpler life,
though even this is tainted by life-long
experiences in a world of chaos,
the search for a calm existence where artificial
supplementation gives false courage and hope.
The life, death and resurrection of the seasons
provide a blueprint, a promise ages-old
to those with the vision to read its message.
Jean, at 80, has been writing poems since she was 18. For 25 years she published a popular poetry quarterly of up to 100 pages, with a subscribership of nearly 500. Illness in 1986 ended the magazine. She currently publishes, by email, a 2-page monthly of clean humor. Contact her at jcalkins01@charter.net.
Fata Morgana--By Elly Wouterse--Netherlands
Fata Morgana
wandering in unassailable jungles of sand grains
deeply hidden between highest hills and long valleys
and endless colorless shadeless plains
wearing ubiquitous sandy clothes and gloves
tired unyielding legs dragging forth riveted feet
repeatedly chained and deeply bogged down
amidst an immense impenetrable dried fleet
of days gone by and still alive and cherished dreams
the universe of sand moves in its own unimaginable endless mass
for who feels the loneliness of intimate worlds of a small hourglass
Dutch poetess Elly Wouterse is oftentimes focused observing the world surrounding her. While watching, noticing, listening, thinking, dreaming and - or fantasizing she often finds the inspiration resulting in Poetical Visuals published on her own website - http://www.ellywouterse.com/ and in her first publication, Between Moonset and Sunrise. http://www.ellywouterse.com/special-edition.html
wandering in unassailable jungles of sand grains
deeply hidden between highest hills and long valleys
and endless colorless shadeless plains
wearing ubiquitous sandy clothes and gloves
tired unyielding legs dragging forth riveted feet
repeatedly chained and deeply bogged down
amidst an immense impenetrable dried fleet
of days gone by and still alive and cherished dreams
the universe of sand moves in its own unimaginable endless mass
for who feels the loneliness of intimate worlds of a small hourglass
Dutch poetess Elly Wouterse is oftentimes focused observing the world surrounding her. While watching, noticing, listening, thinking, dreaming and - or fantasizing she often finds the inspiration resulting in Poetical Visuals published on her own website - http://www.ellywouterse.com/ and in her first publication, Between Moonset and Sunrise. http://www.ellywouterse.com/special-edition.html
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Haiku--By Barbara Tate--United States
midnight thunder
the buffalo spirits
come to earth
_______________
heat waves
the sweet aroma
of quiet illusion
_______________
winter evening
snowflakes fall
on kitten whiskers
_______________
ripples
my son skips
his first stone
_______________
sunset
the sea oats wave goodbye
_______________
Barbara Tate is a member of the Haiku Society of America, Gulf Coast Writers Association and the United Haiku and Tanka Society. This year her work has appeared in Storyteller Magazine, Magnolia Quarterly, Frogpond, Cattails, Modern Haiku, Contemporary Haiku Online, Poet's Art and Brass Bell, among others. She lives in Winchester, TN.
the buffalo spirits
come to earth
_______________
heat waves
the sweet aroma
of quiet illusion
_______________
winter evening
snowflakes fall
on kitten whiskers
_______________
ripples
my son skips
his first stone
_______________
sunset
the sea oats wave goodbye
_______________
Barbara Tate is a member of the Haiku Society of America, Gulf Coast Writers Association and the United Haiku and Tanka Society. This year her work has appeared in Storyteller Magazine, Magnolia Quarterly, Frogpond, Cattails, Modern Haiku, Contemporary Haiku Online, Poet's Art and Brass Bell, among others. She lives in Winchester, TN.
Rock, Paper and Scissors--By James Andrew Fraser--Scotland
Rock, Paper and Scissors
The scissors are beaten by the rock
Man made steel has been left in shock
Now the rock has been beat
By a flimsy light sheet
The winning paper is where our words talk
James Andrew Fraser resides in Inverness, the Capital of the Highlands, Bonnie Scotland. He is married with four lovely children. Andrew, Steven, Rebekah and Liam. James has been writing poetry for about four years. He is a member of Poetry Soup where many poets have allowed his work to prosper, especially Carolyn Devonshire who has guided and inspired him. His hobbies apart from poetry are music, art and football. You can read more of his poetry at his website www.thehighlanderspoems.com
The scissors are beaten by the rock
Man made steel has been left in shock
Now the rock has been beat
By a flimsy light sheet
The winning paper is where our words talk
James Andrew Fraser resides in Inverness, the Capital of the Highlands, Bonnie Scotland. He is married with four lovely children. Andrew, Steven, Rebekah and Liam. James has been writing poetry for about four years. He is a member of Poetry Soup where many poets have allowed his work to prosper, especially Carolyn Devonshire who has guided and inspired him. His hobbies apart from poetry are music, art and football. You can read more of his poetry at his website www.thehighlanderspoems.com
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
My Grandfather Clock--By Robert L. Hinshaw--United States
My Grandfather Clock
Its sonorous tone has struck the hours for well over a hundred years,
But time hath surely taken its toll on its weary wheels and gears.
'Tis built of sturdy oak by craftsmen who took pride in their guild.
My old friend stands nigh seven feet tall and leaves my life fulfilled.
To keep fit he needs a tune-up now and then as all we old guys do.
And with a generous squirt of oil here and there he runs just like new.
His beaming face shines and his rhythmic tick-tock tells me all is well.
He's a dear and treasured companion for all who in this home do dwell.
Oh! If only he could talk of the many things he's witnessed during his life.
Birth, death, sad and happy times, the struggles of foolish man in strife.
Old Grandpa has been quite the world traveler since his birth in Bavaria.
He's been to Japan and all over America - he's surely covered lots of area!
How comforting it is to hear his soothing chimes in the still of the night,
Knowing that he is keeping time for me and that everything is alright.
With each pendulum swing he reminds me that my time on earth is measured,
Time I daren't squander - time with friends and family that must be treasured.
Robert L. Hinshaw served 30 years in the Air Force retiring in 1978 in the grade of Chief Master Sergeant. He began writing poetry in 2002 at age 72 and has composed over 1100 poems.
Its sonorous tone has struck the hours for well over a hundred years,
But time hath surely taken its toll on its weary wheels and gears.
'Tis built of sturdy oak by craftsmen who took pride in their guild.
My old friend stands nigh seven feet tall and leaves my life fulfilled.
To keep fit he needs a tune-up now and then as all we old guys do.
And with a generous squirt of oil here and there he runs just like new.
His beaming face shines and his rhythmic tick-tock tells me all is well.
He's a dear and treasured companion for all who in this home do dwell.
Oh! If only he could talk of the many things he's witnessed during his life.
Birth, death, sad and happy times, the struggles of foolish man in strife.
Old Grandpa has been quite the world traveler since his birth in Bavaria.
He's been to Japan and all over America - he's surely covered lots of area!
How comforting it is to hear his soothing chimes in the still of the night,
Knowing that he is keeping time for me and that everything is alright.
With each pendulum swing he reminds me that my time on earth is measured,
Time I daren't squander - time with friends and family that must be treasured.
Robert L. Hinshaw served 30 years in the Air Force retiring in 1978 in the grade of Chief Master Sergeant. He began writing poetry in 2002 at age 72 and has composed over 1100 poems.
Tanka--By Anne Curran--New Zealand
when the sun
sets over far hills
I say farewell ...
longing for the
swallow's flight
_______________
his shirt hanging loose
he turns his hazel eyes
on mine
this sweetness
through my veins
paper wasp 19 (4) summer 2013
_______________
this winter morn
the magnolia wears
a bodice of buds...
my demure mother
as a debutante
cattails, September, 2014
_______________
Anne Curran is a Japanese verse forms poet from Hamilton, New Zealand. Anne has been writing poetry for about ten years with the encouragement of friends and family. She draws inspiration from the world around her. She has been fortunate to enjoy the wisdom of some fine editors and fellow poets.
sets over far hills
I say farewell ...
longing for the
swallow's flight
_______________
his shirt hanging loose
he turns his hazel eyes
on mine
this sweetness
through my veins
paper wasp 19 (4) summer 2013
_______________
this winter morn
the magnolia wears
a bodice of buds...
my demure mother
as a debutante
cattails, September, 2014
_______________
Anne Curran is a Japanese verse forms poet from Hamilton, New Zealand. Anne has been writing poetry for about ten years with the encouragement of friends and family. She draws inspiration from the world around her. She has been fortunate to enjoy the wisdom of some fine editors and fellow poets.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Daybreak--By Suzanne Delaney--United States
Daybreak:
Observed from an Airline Window
"The sky shone gaunt gold
on the lip of the storm before
the" anvil shaped clouds advanced
upon the burning margins of the world.
Like a dream the thunder rolled away
leaving cotton candy swirls before a
spreading dawn.
Gentle, white horse clouds appeared
pulling pastel chariots
bearing angels –rainbows,
tinted on their snowy wings.
Down they plunged, gilt-edged
into a pit of pure white, popcorn clouds.
Seeing the earth as God might
I observe in wonder
before the breakfast service,
delicate washes of pale lavender
mist into daylight.
Suzanne Delaney is a retired Registered Nurse. A resident of Hawaii, USA she was born in Tasmania. She now has time to pursue her passion for writing poetry, creating collages and for traveling.
Observed from an Airline Window
"The sky shone gaunt gold
on the lip of the storm before
the" anvil shaped clouds advanced
upon the burning margins of the world.
Like a dream the thunder rolled away
leaving cotton candy swirls before a
spreading dawn.
Gentle, white horse clouds appeared
pulling pastel chariots
bearing angels –rainbows,
tinted on their snowy wings.
Down they plunged, gilt-edged
into a pit of pure white, popcorn clouds.
Seeing the earth as God might
I observe in wonder
before the breakfast service,
delicate washes of pale lavender
mist into daylight.
Suzanne Delaney is a retired Registered Nurse. A resident of Hawaii, USA she was born in Tasmania. She now has time to pursue her passion for writing poetry, creating collages and for traveling.
José Mujica--By Ndaba Sibanda--Saudi Arabia
José Mujica
I am inspired by Uruguay`s
servant leader
whose humility would make
some church folks
and national presidents
look like the worst
felonious worshipers
of wealth and clout.
In the entire world,
I am inspired
by his disarming selflessness.
What a rare national father!
Ndaba Sibanda is a Zimbabwean-born writer. His poems, essays and short stories have been published in Africa and the USA. Ndaba currently lives and teaches in Saudi Arabia. Of his career, he says, "writing is my life, and my second wife".
I am inspired by Uruguay`s
servant leader
whose humility would make
some church folks
and national presidents
look like the worst
felonious worshipers
of wealth and clout.
In the entire world,
I am inspired
by his disarming selflessness.
What a rare national father!
Ndaba Sibanda is a Zimbabwean-born writer. His poems, essays and short stories have been published in Africa and the USA. Ndaba currently lives and teaches in Saudi Arabia. Of his career, he says, "writing is my life, and my second wife".
Monday, November 3, 2014
What is Poetry?--By Sara R. Vogler--United States
What is Poetry?
poetry,
the lines i write,
will be written in books,
covered by newspapers and fairy dust.
poetry,
the songs i hum to,
and the songs i yearn for,
will be the melody on a palm of a little kid.
writing is for dreamers,
and dreaming is what i do best.
about rainbows, shiny shoes, and dark lit cafes,
the boy in the band who smiles so bright,
you can see his molars,
from window washer on the top of the chrysler building.
Sara R. Vogler is a published poet and writer, originally from Krakow, Poland. Currently living in Washington, DC, her work has ranged from poetry to critical essays. Recently, she has collaborated with her father on a three-piece book featuring work to honor their past. Vogler finds comfort in knowing that her words will someday make a lasting impression on someone's life.
poetry,
the lines i write,
will be written in books,
covered by newspapers and fairy dust.
poetry,
the songs i hum to,
and the songs i yearn for,
will be the melody on a palm of a little kid.
writing is for dreamers,
and dreaming is what i do best.
about rainbows, shiny shoes, and dark lit cafes,
the boy in the band who smiles so bright,
you can see his molars,
from window washer on the top of the chrysler building.
Sara R. Vogler is a published poet and writer, originally from Krakow, Poland. Currently living in Washington, DC, her work has ranged from poetry to critical essays. Recently, she has collaborated with her father on a three-piece book featuring work to honor their past. Vogler finds comfort in knowing that her words will someday make a lasting impression on someone's life.
Nature’s Confessional, A True Sonnet--By Sheri Stanley--United States
Nature’s Confessional, A True Sonnet
I find myself in awe the old Oak tree
Which seems to stand there questioning to me
I hear my voice out loud ‘tis I to speak
Though some would say its volume far too weak
Empathy for plight of tree flows quite free
Without regret hacked down too greedily
Once held within its roots secrets so true
Years of Sundays bearing the finite clue
Enduring torture - progress shifts the blame
Wild bear and deer displaced, oh, what a shame!
Our God and Father blessed us - grand the gift
To teach us unity and to uplift
Mighty Oak, great granddaddy of them all
Nature’s confessional, buried in the fall
Sheri is an artist, song writer and poet. She is also a graphic and digital book illustrator. A citizen of the United States she enjoys golf and music and quiet evenings at home with her much cherished family. Her website is www.poetryandbeyond.net
I find myself in awe the old Oak tree
Which seems to stand there questioning to me
I hear my voice out loud ‘tis I to speak
Though some would say its volume far too weak
Empathy for plight of tree flows quite free
Without regret hacked down too greedily
Once held within its roots secrets so true
Years of Sundays bearing the finite clue
Enduring torture - progress shifts the blame
Wild bear and deer displaced, oh, what a shame!
Our God and Father blessed us - grand the gift
To teach us unity and to uplift
Mighty Oak, great granddaddy of them all
Nature’s confessional, buried in the fall
Sheri is an artist, song writer and poet. She is also a graphic and digital book illustrator. A citizen of the United States she enjoys golf and music and quiet evenings at home with her much cherished family. Her website is www.poetryandbeyond.net
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Snowflakes--By Anna-Marie Docherty--Wales
Snowflakes
Mesmerizing flutters and flourishes
gracefully blow on the wind
drifting, creeping and crawling up and down my back door
I see you hit the pane
slide a little to the left and kiss another
slipping together as your mass melds - swaying as one
As if on dancing on ice
Together you perform
Quick-stepping motion
As the crowd thickens
or winds abate
Tired from your escapade together you settle
On the purest white bed
Where tomorrows warmth will warm your juices
Melting you and allowing you to slip away
almost unnoticed you make your exit
Anna-Marie Docherty lives in Pembrokeshire, Wales, UK and is often inspired by nature and the world around her. Having been writing poetry now for 4 - 5 years, her works have developed in structure and form as well as using free verse in her writing as she walks this endless art form and creativity in her thirst to further learn. Letting the pen and the muse dictate topic and form both humour, religion, nature or the serious subject might be touched upon therefore keeping the writing fresh and easy to read by those who follow. Writing both as given name above and pen name anaisnais through the net, examples of poems can be found both in Snippets, an anthology of short verse by various international poets, compiled by Karen O'Leary and Patricia Ann Farnsworth-Simpson; also Pink Panther magazine, an anthology written by several poets and artists on feminist issues in our environment and various poems on the internet for taster.
Mesmerizing flutters and flourishes
gracefully blow on the wind
drifting, creeping and crawling up and down my back door
I see you hit the pane
slide a little to the left and kiss another
slipping together as your mass melds - swaying as one
As if on dancing on ice
Together you perform
Quick-stepping motion
As the crowd thickens
or winds abate
Tired from your escapade together you settle
On the purest white bed
Where tomorrows warmth will warm your juices
Melting you and allowing you to slip away
almost unnoticed you make your exit
Anna-Marie Docherty lives in Pembrokeshire, Wales, UK and is often inspired by nature and the world around her. Having been writing poetry now for 4 - 5 years, her works have developed in structure and form as well as using free verse in her writing as she walks this endless art form and creativity in her thirst to further learn. Letting the pen and the muse dictate topic and form both humour, religion, nature or the serious subject might be touched upon therefore keeping the writing fresh and easy to read by those who follow. Writing both as given name above and pen name anaisnais through the net, examples of poems can be found both in Snippets, an anthology of short verse by various international poets, compiled by Karen O'Leary and Patricia Ann Farnsworth-Simpson; also Pink Panther magazine, an anthology written by several poets and artists on feminist issues in our environment and various poems on the internet for taster.
It Is Raining--By Suchoon Mo--United States
It Is Raining
it is raining
and a little boy is singing
he is singing in the rain
and I don't know why
it is raining
and frogs are singing
they are singing in the rain
and I don' know why
it is raining
and I am going home
I am not singing in the rain
and I don't know why
Suchoon Mo is a Korean War veteran and a retired academic living in the semiarid part of Colorado.
it is raining
and a little boy is singing
he is singing in the rain
and I don't know why
it is raining
and frogs are singing
they are singing in the rain
and I don' know why
it is raining
and I am going home
I am not singing in the rain
and I don't know why
Suchoon Mo is a Korean War veteran and a retired academic living in the semiarid part of Colorado.
Saturday, November 1, 2014
The Hint Of You--By Pam Murray--Canada
The Hint Of You
The stillness of the leaves became a shadow,
I waited for the earth to sing its song
And felt the summer heat begin its fading
As hints of autumn moved the day along.
I searched for words that could express my feelings
As time turned into memory once more
But blankness touched the book I’d hoped to write in
And silence seemed to block the artist’s door.
I reached into my dreams and saw you dancing
Through a rain swept forest just at dawn
And felt my spirit join you on your journey.
The hint of you stays with me though you’re gone.
Born in Calgary, Alberta, Pam Murray has been writing poetry since the mid-1960’s. She was married for over 41 years and has two daughters, a son-in-law, and a grandson. Pam has been published in a variety of venues. Her proudest writing accomplishment was a poem she wrote for a United Way fundraiser, which was later framed with a French translation and hung on the wall of the legislature in Ottawa, Canada. To her, poetry is a transposition of a vision she sees in her mind. Writing and crocheting are her passions.
The stillness of the leaves became a shadow,
I waited for the earth to sing its song
And felt the summer heat begin its fading
As hints of autumn moved the day along.
I searched for words that could express my feelings
As time turned into memory once more
But blankness touched the book I’d hoped to write in
And silence seemed to block the artist’s door.
I reached into my dreams and saw you dancing
Through a rain swept forest just at dawn
And felt my spirit join you on your journey.
The hint of you stays with me though you’re gone.
Born in Calgary, Alberta, Pam Murray has been writing poetry since the mid-1960’s. She was married for over 41 years and has two daughters, a son-in-law, and a grandson. Pam has been published in a variety of venues. Her proudest writing accomplishment was a poem she wrote for a United Way fundraiser, which was later framed with a French translation and hung on the wall of the legislature in Ottawa, Canada. To her, poetry is a transposition of a vision she sees in her mind. Writing and crocheting are her passions.
My Strength--By Douglas L. Ace--United States
My Strength
There is a calling
to the inner depths of me
when I look at the
majesty of Your mountains.
Quiet and serene, they still me
as I am reminded once again, of You.
You who spoke
these mountains into existence
and are my Strength.
AND
The Strength of those who
safely trust in, lean into
and rely upon and
confide in
YOU.
Douglas L. Ace is a freelance writer from Stroudsburg, PA. His poetry can be found
on such sites as Poetry Soup and Triond. He released his first book of poems in 2009, titled Reflections On The Way, published by Publish America. Douglas continues to write poetry and short stories which are entered in his journals.
There is a calling
to the inner depths of me
when I look at the
majesty of Your mountains.
Quiet and serene, they still me
as I am reminded once again, of You.
You who spoke
these mountains into existence
and are my Strength.
AND
The Strength of those who
safely trust in, lean into
and rely upon and
confide in
YOU.
Douglas L. Ace is a freelance writer from Stroudsburg, PA. His poetry can be found
on such sites as Poetry Soup and Triond. He released his first book of poems in 2009, titled Reflections On The Way, published by Publish America. Douglas continues to write poetry and short stories which are entered in his journals.
NOVEMBER ANNOUNCEMENTS/PUBLICATION OPPORTUNITIES
NEW CONTRIBUTORS IN OCTOBER
Colleen Keller Breuning--United States
Lavana Kray--Romania
Ramesh Anand --India
Joyce M. Johnson (SMILE)--United States
Frances Simwinga--Malawi
Jan Allison--United Kingdom
Donna Bowring--United States
Robert A. Hall--United States
Joan McNerney--United States
Ali Znaidi--Tunisia
Darrell Lindsey--United States
Peggy Heinrich--United States
Please welcome them to our community. We now have representatives from the following countries--Australia, Botswana, Canada, Canary Islands, England, France, Germany, India, Ireland, Israel, Malawi, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nigeria, Philippines, Portugal, Romania, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Tunisia, Turkey, United Kingdom, United States and Wales. I look forward to expanding this list in the future. Thank you to everyone that has supported Whispers in any way. --Sincerely, Karen
We have a world wide audience. If you are currently reading Whispers, please consider submitting a poem for consideration. You may contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net for guidelines. Thank you.
Note--Ads due for December column by November 25
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Stacy Savage released a new chapbook anthology called Mother Nature’s Trail. The proceeds benefit Wolf Creek Habitat. More information on the book is available at https://www.facebook.com/poetrycontestsforacause.
Tom Davis and Old Mountain Press offers wide variety of eBooks at http://www.oldmp.com/e-book I Wonder Why a Poetry and Prose Anthology Free at Kindle Store Nov 5, 8, & 15. url http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LT94MSC
Peter Dome released his first book of poetry called Love, Life and Inspiration, a collection of poems written from the heart. It is suitable for everyone with a wide range of topics including, nature, wisdom and spirituality. Peter hopes his book will bring a lot of pleasure to others. It is available at Lulu.com.
Maureen Sudlow has a poetry book Antipodes coming up for release in early December. More information will be available on her website www.kiwis-soar.com
Maralee Gerke has published a new book of poetry called A New Lexicon. If you are interested please ask for more information at mgerke@crestviewcable.com
Jack Horne announces the release of his short story collection, Some Dark Tales. This e-book is currently available from Amazon.co.uk, price £1.81, and Amazon.com, price $2.99
Sheri Stanley has opened a new web site and invites you to visit at: www.poetryandbeyond.net Please leave comments and visit often.
Shloka Shankar has a poetry page on Facebook called 'Shloka Shankar: a rasika's musings'. To read more of her poems, please visit: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shloka-Shankar-a-rasikas-musings/745965042120215?ref_type=bookmark
Lisa DeVinney has a website for her devotional poetry called Lifting My Eyes, at liftingmyeyes.com
Karen O’Leary released Whispers, her first book of poetry in 2011, published by APF Publisher. It has been getting good reviews and is available at online at www.lulu.com (Search Whispers under Karen O'Leary) or contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net
John W. (Bill) Williams published a science fiction book that he also illustrated called The Dream Hill. To order copies from Xlibris Company call 1-888-795-4274 or go to www.Xlibris.com The website provides sample pages of the book for interested readers.
PUBLICATION/CONTEST OPPORTUNITIES
Please consider supporting The Jokester and Creative Inspirations by sending stamps or other small donations to help with postage. Thank you for considering this. ---Karen
ayaz daryl nielsen's print publication bear creek haiku is always open for postal submissions, mail poetry to bear creek haiku, po box 3787, boulder, co, 80307, USA, 11 lines and less, include SASE. Can be contacted at darylayaz@me.com, blog site is bearcreekhaiku.blogspot.com.
Tom Davis, publisher of Old Mountain Press, invites all to review his eBook site (Kindle and NOOK) where numerous Old Mountain Press Anthologies of poetry and prose are listed see: Self-publish an electronic book e-book with Old Mountain Press
Maurice J. Reynolds, the editor of the poetry publication Creative Inspirations, is seeking poetry 20 lines or less for his print magazine. Complete guidelines are available at www.tgbtgpublictions.com Stamps or cash donations would be appreciated to help with mailing costs.
Jean Calkins, editor: The Jokester, 2 pages of clean jokes free by email monthly, a forever stamp by snail mail (monthly or quarterly). Help bring smiles to shut-ins by contributing forever stamps. Even one stamp helps. Jean Calkins, 260 4th St., Waynesville, NC 28786-3762. jcalkins01@charter.net
David Fox is seeking family-friendly poems for his magazine, The Poet's Art. Rates for the publication are $5 an issue or $20 for a 4 issue subscription. Checks should be made to cash. Foreign contributors should pay $10 by international money order or American cash only. Send submissions and money for subscriptions to David Fox,171 Silverleaf Lane, Islandia, NY 11749 USA.
Whispers is always looking for new writers to join our community. Please send family friendly poems 20 lines or less to gksm@cableone.net Complete guidelines posted 1/21/2013. Thank you to everyone who has already contributed to the site.
Ads are placed by the underlined names. Whispers has not verified the accuracy of all the information.
Colleen Keller Breuning--United States
Lavana Kray--Romania
Ramesh Anand --India
Joyce M. Johnson (SMILE)--United States
Frances Simwinga--Malawi
Jan Allison--United Kingdom
Donna Bowring--United States
Robert A. Hall--United States
Joan McNerney--United States
Ali Znaidi--Tunisia
Darrell Lindsey--United States
Peggy Heinrich--United States
Please welcome them to our community. We now have representatives from the following countries--Australia, Botswana, Canada, Canary Islands, England, France, Germany, India, Ireland, Israel, Malawi, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nigeria, Philippines, Portugal, Romania, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Tunisia, Turkey, United Kingdom, United States and Wales. I look forward to expanding this list in the future. Thank you to everyone that has supported Whispers in any way. --Sincerely, Karen
We have a world wide audience. If you are currently reading Whispers, please consider submitting a poem for consideration. You may contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net for guidelines. Thank you.
Note--Ads due for December column by November 25
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Stacy Savage released a new chapbook anthology called Mother Nature’s Trail. The proceeds benefit Wolf Creek Habitat. More information on the book is available at https://www.facebook.com/poetrycontestsforacause.
Tom Davis and Old Mountain Press offers wide variety of eBooks at http://www.oldmp.com/e-book I Wonder Why a Poetry and Prose Anthology Free at Kindle Store Nov 5, 8, & 15. url http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LT94MSC
Peter Dome released his first book of poetry called Love, Life and Inspiration, a collection of poems written from the heart. It is suitable for everyone with a wide range of topics including, nature, wisdom and spirituality. Peter hopes his book will bring a lot of pleasure to others. It is available at Lulu.com.
Maureen Sudlow has a poetry book Antipodes coming up for release in early December. More information will be available on her website www.kiwis-soar.com
Maralee Gerke has published a new book of poetry called A New Lexicon. If you are interested please ask for more information at mgerke@crestviewcable.com
Jack Horne announces the release of his short story collection, Some Dark Tales. This e-book is currently available from Amazon.co.uk, price £1.81, and Amazon.com, price $2.99
Sheri Stanley has opened a new web site and invites you to visit at: www.poetryandbeyond.net Please leave comments and visit often.
Shloka Shankar has a poetry page on Facebook called 'Shloka Shankar: a rasika's musings'. To read more of her poems, please visit: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shloka-Shankar-a-rasikas-musings/745965042120215?ref_type=bookmark
Lisa DeVinney has a website for her devotional poetry called Lifting My Eyes, at liftingmyeyes.com
Karen O’Leary released Whispers, her first book of poetry in 2011, published by APF Publisher. It has been getting good reviews and is available at online at www.lulu.com (Search Whispers under Karen O'Leary) or contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net
John W. (Bill) Williams published a science fiction book that he also illustrated called The Dream Hill. To order copies from Xlibris Company call 1-888-795-4274 or go to www.Xlibris.com The website provides sample pages of the book for interested readers.
PUBLICATION/CONTEST OPPORTUNITIES
Please consider supporting The Jokester and Creative Inspirations by sending stamps or other small donations to help with postage. Thank you for considering this. ---Karen
ayaz daryl nielsen's print publication bear creek haiku is always open for postal submissions, mail poetry to bear creek haiku, po box 3787, boulder, co, 80307, USA, 11 lines and less, include SASE. Can be contacted at darylayaz@me.com, blog site is bearcreekhaiku.blogspot.com.
Tom Davis, publisher of Old Mountain Press, invites all to review his eBook site (Kindle and NOOK) where numerous Old Mountain Press Anthologies of poetry and prose are listed see: Self-publish an electronic book e-book with Old Mountain Press
Maurice J. Reynolds, the editor of the poetry publication Creative Inspirations, is seeking poetry 20 lines or less for his print magazine. Complete guidelines are available at www.tgbtgpublictions.com Stamps or cash donations would be appreciated to help with mailing costs.
Jean Calkins, editor: The Jokester, 2 pages of clean jokes free by email monthly, a forever stamp by snail mail (monthly or quarterly). Help bring smiles to shut-ins by contributing forever stamps. Even one stamp helps. Jean Calkins, 260 4th St., Waynesville, NC 28786-3762. jcalkins01@charter.net
David Fox is seeking family-friendly poems for his magazine, The Poet's Art. Rates for the publication are $5 an issue or $20 for a 4 issue subscription. Checks should be made to cash. Foreign contributors should pay $10 by international money order or American cash only. Send submissions and money for subscriptions to David Fox,171 Silverleaf Lane, Islandia, NY 11749 USA.
Whispers is always looking for new writers to join our community. Please send family friendly poems 20 lines or less to gksm@cableone.net Complete guidelines posted 1/21/2013. Thank you to everyone who has already contributed to the site.
Ads are placed by the underlined names. Whispers has not verified the accuracy of all the information.
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