Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: Rita McDermott Rustic Cold damp rain pervades the forestWhile flames crackle in the stone fireplaceBeads of moisture slide down the windowpaneAnd the scent of burning logs fills the room.Enveloped by the warmth of the fireTaking in the view of…

Poetry

By: Blair Boleyn Dating a Troll My beauty you extol,But you don’t care about my soul.You just want a doll you can control. Morgana’s Admirer You said, “You, my friend, I admire,You’re not afraid to walk close to the fire.You…

Poetry

By: Marc Carver SCHIZO I like walking at nightthe streetlights show two of metwo shadows that fall one behind the otheralthough we still go the same wayI wonder which one I amof course I am bothtwo men but oneBut I…

Books ReviewsEssay

By: Sashie The American dream is based on a concept that anyone can obtain success, regardless of their upbringing or socio-economic status. Gatsby’s life is the epitome of the American dream. He chooses to live his life dangerously in order…

Fiction

By Bruce Levine Being the new kid on the block isn’t easy. Pairings have already been made. Groups have been organized as if by some unseen and unknown hand sorting everyone; pointing to each person as if saying ‘you go…

Poetry

By: Bruce Levine Where do rainbows go After they fade away? Is there a land of color And parades of chocolate cake? Do leprechauns go bowling Or skate in pools of rain? Do milkshakes last forever In a never empty…

Poetry

By: Ed Nichols The Slow Train        A train came by the station so fast it was just a blur. So fast we could scarcely read the writing on the side of the train. Everybody was confused. We didn’t understand what…

Poetry

By: April Mae Berza She is beautiful inside outlike an ethereal flame,rekindling the summers of youth,sweet and innocent.Her passion for dogs and catsshines through,I’m in awe and wonderhow she embracesher days and nightstaking care of her beloved.Since her smiles and…

Fiction

By: Andrew C. Miller Periwinkle, a black and white short-haired cat with a dark smudge on his nose squeezed under the couch. He was searching for Blueberry, the Maine Coon cat. “Prrrtt?” he called, “Prrrtt-prrrtt?” No answer. He slipped behind the…

Fiction

By Thomas M. McDade I thought I’d regret skipping a goodbye visit to the Windburn Barn so better safe than sorry I drove there. I figured a bunch of college kids would have rented it by now but there were…