Wednesday, June 4, 2014

June 2014 Poetry Page






"This is a brief life, but in its brevity 
it offers us some splendid moments, 
some meaningful adventures."

- Rudyard Kipling
source

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POEM OF THE MONTH



DREAMS OF LONG AGO
by Floriana Hall


We were hiking on different trails many years ago
Leading our little grandkids, five of them in tow.
On dark shadowed paths we would walk and sing
Of Hansel and Gretel and birds on the wing
We scattered breadcrumbs along the pathways
So woodland inhabitants would stop and graze.
The children ran to the left and the right
Ahead of us, behind us, such joy in their flight
We called out, “Please do not stray too far”
But they took off like little marathon stars.
In their carefree fashion, they halted in time
We worried but then were relieved, sublime.
They picked up small limbs from the trees
Threw them ahead along the breeze
They hopped, skipped and chanted nursery rhymes
Oh, it was our middle years most wonderful time
Now they are all grown, have kids of their own
We cannot anymore be their chaperone.
New babies will soon be walking the trails
Of life and all the pleasure it entails
We can just hold and bounce them on our lap
Sing songs of the forest that remain in our cap
The younger grandparents will take over the job
Of teaching little ones to hike and hobnob.
We still dream of those hours of pleasure
The same grandkids grown are forever a treasure.
Reminiscing back to when we were spry
Brings tears to our eyes, but we never cry
For life goes on, and seasons come and go
While woodlands remain for the living to know.  



FLORIANA HALL was born in 1927 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She is a Distinguished Graduate of Cuyahoga Falls High School, Ohio in June 1948, and attended Akron University. She is an author and poet of 17 inspirational books, nonfiction and poetry. All of her books are available on Amazon.com. She has five children, nine grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren. She is the founder and coordinator of THE POET'S NOOK at Cuyahoga Falls Library. Contact Website Website





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DAD'S FISHING ESCAPE
(In Memory Of Gerard Fischetti)
by Susan Marie Davniero


The morning dawn breaks
And seagulls’ call makes   
A new day as beach awakes
For Dad’s fishing escape

Yet, red sky this morning
Fishermen take warning
Rough waters at bay
The fishes escape today
https://mail.google.com/mail/images/cleardot.gif


Gerard Fischetti on a fishing escape at Captree Beach, Long Island 
Credit: Susan Marie Davniero


SUSAN MARIE DAVNIERO is a published poet listed in "The Poet's Market 2011." She writes in traditional rhyme verse and has been published in various publications including Pancakes in Heaven, Coffee Ground Breakfast, Long Short Story, Great South Bay Magazine, Write On, The Poet's Art, Creations, Poetic Matrix, Pink Chameleon, Shemom, and others. She has also written essays and letters published in newspapers and magazines including the New York Times, Daily News, Newsday, Ladies Home Journal, and Saturday Evening Post. Her blog “Susan Marie” is her writing history. They don't know her; yet, by way of writing they might. She is never at a loss of words. She has found her place as a writer and a poet. With every poem published she is inspired to write more. Writing feeds her soul - literally food for thought. Contact



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RED ROCKING CHAIR
by Michael Lee Johnson


A red rocking chair
abandoned in a field
of freshly cut clover,
rocks back and forth-
squeaks each time
the wind pushes
at its back,
then,
retreats.


MICHAEL LEE JOHNSON lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era: now known as the Itasca, IL poet.  Today he is a poet, freelance writer, photographer who experiments with poetography (blending poetry with photography), and small business owner in Itasca, Illinois, who has been published in more than 750 small press magazines in 26 countries, and he edits seven poetry sites. Michael is the author of The Lost American: From Exile to Freedom (136 page book),which is available at Amazon  and iUniverseseveral chapbooks of his poetry, including From Which Place the Morning Rises and Challenge of Night and Day, and Chicago Poems. He also has 69 poetry videos on YouTube. Contact Website Website 



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HIGH STYLE
by Joanna M. Weston


he swooshes
down the long yellow slide

wearing green rubber boots
with this week’s favorite red Superman outfit
and bright orange sunglasses

he has an eclectic sense of fashion
but
he is four years old



JOANNA M. WESTON: Married; has two cats, multiple spiders, a herd of deer, and two derelict hen-houses. Her middle-reader, ‘Those Blue Shoes,’ is published by Clarity House Press; and poetry, ‘A Summer Father,’ is published by Frontenac House of Calgary. Her eBooks can be found at her blog. Contact


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STORM
by Elaine Kaye


Dark clouds
thunder in the distance
lightning flashes here and there
sweet smell of rain is in the air.
Wind rushes by
soft drops hit my face
loud crashes of thunder
rain beats down harder.
Thunder, lightning brightens my room
giving me memories of childhood chills.
Animals run for shelter
I hide under blankets.
Wind is dying down
soft rain falls again
colorful rainbow caresses the sky
birds sing
butterflies flutter
fluffy clouds speckle the sky.
Another storm has come and gone.


ELAINE KAYE has published two stories with The Story Shack, a flash romance with Short-Story.Me, and a suspense story with Diverse Voices Quarterly. Her poem, A Grain of Sand, has been featured on Long Story Short. She currently lives in Florida, but has called Honolulu, Hawaii and Okinawa, Japan home. Contact 


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RINGING IN MY HEAD
by Patricia Wellingham-Jones


The day of bells
started with the telephone’s ring,
my friend in a baker’s disaster –
loaves in the oven, element quit.
Could we experiment? Sure, come right over.

Down she buzzed with part-baked bread,
rolls and desserts on trays.
The doorbell squawked, oven-temp pinged
as she flurried inside.

We crossed our fingers
that interrupted baking would work
and each returned to Saturday chores.

In a bit the timer chimed at me,
I re-arranged items on their racks.

Within minutes the raucous scream
of the smoke detector
raced through heart and house.

Smoke billowed from the oven,
swirled through the rooms,
eddied in corners.

Nerves clanging with the klaxon
I yanked the burned loaf to the sink,
resettled the others, then dashed around the house,
threw open doors and windows, set up fans.

By the time my friend returned for her bread
(which mostly survived unscathed)
neurons quit zinging, and I decided
to be glad I now knew
the smoke detector worked.


PATRICIA WELLINGHAM-JONES is a former psychology researcher and writer/editor with poetry widely published in journals, anthologies and Internet magazines. She has a special interest in healing writing, leads a cancer center writing group, and has work in several anthologies on related subjects. Chapbooks include Don’t Turn Away: poems about breast cancer, End-Cycle: poems about caregiving, Apple Blossoms at Eye Level, Voices on the Land and Hormone Stew. Contact 



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WALKING MY INNER BEING
by Changming Yuan


On a sunny Saturday afternoon
I would lead my inner selfhood
Out of my small rented room
To the Fraser River Valley Park
To let it play with other dogs
Running and jumping wildly
Catching the ball each time I threw
Into the air, the tree shade, the ditch
The bank, the water, and sometimes
The ridge, where it sometimes stopped and stood
Looking beyond the horizon, as if to join the wild
Becoming one and the same with the little cloud 
Drifting freely around, under the western sky


CHANGMING YUAN8-time Pushcart nominee and author of Chansons of a Chinaman (2009) and Landscaping (2013), grew up in rural China but currently tutors in Vancouver, where he co-publishes Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan and operates PP Press. With a PhD in English, Yuan has most recently been interviewed by [PANK] and World Poetry (CFRO100.5FM), and had poetry appear in Best Canadian Poetry, BestNewPoemsOnline, London Magazine, Threepenny Review and 809 other literary journals/anthologies across 28 countries. Contact Blog Facebook 



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GRANDPA'S ROSES
(In Memory of Grandpa Joseph Cioffi)
by Susan Marie Davniero


Sunshine awakens the birth
Grandpa’s Roses from the earth
As blush of colors bathe
Grace the walking path
Enchanting scene we behold
As the rose buds unfold
Bloom is Heaven sent
Burst of sweet scent
Giving Mother Nature’s kiss
Splendor by garden’s bliss
The seasons come and go
Blossom of Grandpa’s Roses 



Grandpa and Grandma (Joseph and Bridget Cioffi) 
with sisters, Susan, Teresa and Laura, Credit: Susan Marie Davniero


SUSAN MARIE DAVNIERO is a published poet listed in "The Poet's Market 2011." She writes in traditional rhyme verse and has been published in various publications including Pancakes in Heaven, Coffee Ground Breakfast, Long Short Story, Great South Bay Magazine, Write On, The Poet's Art, Creations, Poetic Matrix, Pink Chameleon, Shemom, and others. She has also written essays and letters published in newspapers and magazines including the New York Times, Daily News, Newsday, Ladies Home Journal, and Saturday Evening Post. Her blog “Susan Marie” is her writing history. They don't know her; yet, by way of writing they might. She is never at a loss of words. She has found her place as a writer and a poet. With every poem published she is inspired to write more. Writing feeds her soul - literally food for thought. Contact


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JUST ASKING
by Floriana Hall


Acceptance of what life brings is living well,
It may be fair weather or pain to dwell
Along with difficult people at times as well.

Acceptance adds strength to bear pain,
A keen brain can enhance beauty from plain
Being slightly humble instead of vain.

Pleasing others, a special gift of response,
Listening intently without any yawns
While weighing pros and cons.

Along with misfortune comes hope,
Embracing good things to help cope
While grasping tightly to climb the towrope.

Appreciation of gifts or giving them
Is gratifying and sparkles like a gem
From which many blessings may stem.


FLORIANA HALL was born in 1927 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She is a Distinguished Graduate of Cuyahoga Falls High School, Ohio in June 1948, and attended Akron University. She is an author and poet of 17 inspirational books, nonfiction and poetry. All of her books are available on Amazon.com. She has five children, nine grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren. She is the founder and coordinator of THE POET'S NOOK at Cuyahoga Falls Library. Contact Website Website



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TAKING THE MORE LEVEL                                
seldom used trail,
leisurely,
through dense trees
and sun dappled scrub.
I ford the stream—
coming upon two
lithe gazelles tanning
on a blanket in the glade.
They cover flirtatiously,
giggle and wave.
Tipping my tattered hat,
I stumble along
briskly.

the edges of my ears burn

                                             p.l. wick



p.l. wick: a versifier, never a “poet”—a writer, busy having a good time writing... Contact 



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CLEVELAND CINQUAIN
by Michael Ceraolo


Airport
on man-made land
along the lakefront- air
traffic so rare it should have stayed
as lake


MICHAEL CERAOLO is a 56-year old retired firefighter/paramedic who has had one full-length book, Euclid Creek from Deep Cleveland Press, published, and a second full-length book, Euclid Creek Book Two from unbound content press, forthcoming later this year. Contact



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FOR SALE
by Mary Ellen Shaughan 


Like the page of a beloved cookbook
dotted with grease spots
and a splotch of something red,
the old step ladder stands
off to the side in a family’s yard sale,
its history indelibly recorded on its rungs –

brown for the lower clapboards of the house
it stood beside at least once a decade,
pale pink for the room of a girl
now married with children of her own,

then a Rorschach of green, dappled with yellow, eggplant and blue –
colors of the lives of those who lived here,
now selling their history for the low, low price of
ten dollars,
or five,
or ‘Hey, make me an offer.’


MARY ELLEN SHAUGHAN is a native Iowan who now calls Western Massachusetts home. She has been writing, in one genre or another, since childhood. She admits that she often views life through a kaleidoscope, which results in some unusual observations. Her poetry has appeared in Mid-America Poetry Review; Peregrine: The Journal of Amherst Writers & Artists; Foliate Oak; Long Story Short; Daily Palette/Iowa Writes, and other journals. Contact 



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IN OUR GARDEN
by James G. Piatt

In the garden scented herbs do grow
Among the daylilies, and roses aglow,
In the humid earth, there's a connection,
Amid dreams of colored perfection,
Flourishing under an orange sky's glow:

Where gaudy hummingbirds softly go,
Our thoughts and dreams softly flow,
Gentle memories become confection,
In our garden:

We dig into the dark loam slow,
Sowing pleasures near our Chateau,
The tiny plants receive affection,
From the beams from the sun above,
Sending warmth to all things below,
In our garden.


JAMES G. PIATT: Dr. Piatt is a retired professor, writer, and poet. He is the author of two poetry books “The Silent Pond,” and “Ancient Rhythms.” His third poetry book is scheduled for released in late 2014. He is also the author of 2 novels (“The Ideal Society” & “The Monk”), over 535 poems, 33 short stories, and 7 essays. His poem, “The Night Frog,” was recently nominated for best of web 2013. His books are available on Amazon, and Barnes and Noble. Contact



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DAMSELFLIES AND DRAGONFLIES
by Patricia Crandall
  
A dragonfly 
rests upon a wooden dock
in restive purple sunlight.
Gossamer wings
spread out in beauty.
A damsel-flies by,
perches nearby,
wings folded.



PATRICIA CRANDALL has three books in print: a thriller, THE DOG MEN, a historical volume, MELROSE: THEN AND NOW, and a poetry book, I PASSED THIS WAY. She is currently working on an adventure/thriller novel and a book of bottle mining adventures. She lives with her husband on a lake in the Grafton Mountains in upstate New York. Contact Website



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WATERS OF THE EARTH
by Floriana Hall


So much water, so much rain
Stinging every windowpane
Is it me, or others thinking
The warm days of spring are shrinking?
Waters of the sea
God's plan came to be
Beautiful lakes and river streams
As observers and bright sunbeams
Waters of the eyes
Crying or surprise
Birthing and surmise
Waters of mankind
Seeing or even blind
Wonderful gift to cherish
Gentle or even bearish
Days of love and laughter
Only water is forever after.


FLORIANA HALL was born in 1927 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She is a Distinguished Graduate of Cuyahoga Falls High School, Ohio in June 1948, and attended Akron University. She is an author and poet of 17 inspirational books, nonfiction and poetry. All of her books are available on Amazon.com. She has five children, nine grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren. She is the founder and coordinator of THE POET'S NOOK at Cuyahoga Falls Library. Contact Website Website



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DAD, SING ME A SONG
(In Memory of Gerard Fischetti)
by Susan Marie Davniero

Dad, sing me a song
Tell me how I belong
To you, as a family
Together in harmony

Dad, sing me a song
Tell me to sing along,
Sing with me now
And teach me how

Dad, sing me a song
Tell me about the days I long
When you were big and strong
Before we parted and said so long



My Dad, Gerard Fischetti singing at home 
with my Uncle Gus accompany on guitar, Credit: Susan Marie Davniero



SUSAN MARIE DAVNIERO is a published poet listed in "The Poet's Market 2011." She writes in traditional rhyme verse and has been published in various publications including Pancakes in Heaven, Coffee Ground Breakfast, Long Short Story, Great South Bay Magazine, Write On, The Poet's Art, Creations, Poetic Matrix, Pink Chameleon, Shemom, and others. She has also written essays and letters published in newspapers and magazines including the New York Times, Daily News, Newsday, Ladies Home Journal, and Saturday Evening Post. Her blog “Susan Marie” is her writing history. They don't know her; yet, by way of writing they might. She is never at a loss of words. She has found her place as a writer and a poet. With every poem published she is inspired to write more. Writing feeds her soul - literally food for thought. Contact









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june celebrity poet 

Rudyard Kipling
(1865 – 1936) 

nationality: English



Rudyard Kipling – Credit: Public Domain





IF—



(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)

If you can keep your head when all about you
   Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
   But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
   Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
   And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
   If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
   And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
   Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
   And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
   And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
   And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
   To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
   Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
   Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
   If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
   With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
   And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!




Source: A Choice of Kipling's Verse (1943)


Read the entire poem at: 

For the poet’s biography, see: 
























Quoted for educational purposes only. 
All work the copyright of the respective authors.

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