By Andrew J. Schmidt I have always found the night a welcome companion. A sanctuary. Beneath the pale light of the moon, the world seems muted, calm, as though holding on to its breath, and the mind is freed from…
By: Srinjaya LahiriWe met in the warm colours of spring. In the hues of golden, blue, and pink. Our first meeting transpired in congenial formality. Our eyes met, but with restraint. Then, what began with a cordial smile, slowly graduated…
By: Jim Bates New garden plantedSoon new fresh veggies will growNature’s smorgasbord. After somber rainPretty morning glories bloomUnexpected gift. Belief they will growCarrot seeds planted with careFaith in Nature’s hands. Big bright midnight moonWorldly silvery moonglowSuch lunar delight. Lovely twilight…
By: Jim Bates Fresh lilacs bloomingLily-of-the-valley tooSpringtime scent so sweet. Springtime misting rainTender garden shoots reachingThirstily drinking. Deep woods forest pathLeafy green canopy aboveSleepy shade below. Late day setting sunLast light filters through the treesBlanket of soft warmth.
By: Jim Bates Thick snowflakes fallingDistant hillsides soften whiteDreamy wonderland. After the snowstormWinter’s soft gentle beautySnow on evergreens. Cotton snowflakes fallPeaceful silence fills the nightAll encompassing. Peaceful snow fallingBig white flakes drifting softlyInto deep silence. Shoveling the snowContemplating so many…
By: Mitali Chakravarty Ah! To Write like Ruskin I feel I cannot write.Words don’t fall into place.I have no stories to tell. Ruskin Bond writes so well.His words touch my heartso I can cry. My words feel dry. The anguish…
By: James Aitchison Where do words gowhen you need them?Do they hide in someone else’scloud, do they escape to thefringes of the mind, do theytease and taunt from a distance?Are words self-powered,self-propelled, self-controlled?Can they masquerade as thewords you don’t want?Are…
By: Todd Mercer We had a genuine Chef running the kitchen, but she got angry and walked out. Now I’m stuck peeling plastic off trays of Lunchables and restacking the heavily processed morsels of meat and cheese on to our…
By: Munavvar Tlewbaeva Night had fallen. Streetlights lit the road, but I didn’t want their artificial glow. I wanted real, shining stars. So I walked home through a darker street.Above me, stars twinkled silently, watching the hurried lives below. My…
By: David Sapp When I was ten or eleven, I had this crazy idea to trek through the woods, along the Kokosing River, from my house to, well, wherever, just to see where we might end up and explore uncharted…