Month: November 2016

Walking – Florence Schloneger

Poetry, Uncategorized

Walking
by Florence Schloneger   

I’ve wondered at the odds — the likelihood
a hymnal shared would make it all begin.
We dated once, but after that it took
a year before he called me back again.

So I was shocked with how he greeted me,
“Uh … Happy Anniversary!”  The gall —
as if he thought the next a certainty!
We stumbled into spring as I recall,

awash in nature’s warmth became a team.
We hiked old trails, held hands beneath the moon,
discovered woodlands dripping rain and dreams,
sat breathless in the dark as sunrise bloomed.

Years passed, earth taught us constancy and trust,
and still we walk each day to keep in touch.

The Trees’ Calling – Claudia Lamp

Poetry

The Trees’ Calling
by Claudia Lamp

Most months of the year, my mind is troubled and fighting.
However, the season of gloom is the worst,
for my soul is still scared of the dark,
even though I’ve finally learned to sleep with the lights off.
A part of it is that my body needs sunshine to feel any sort of brightness inside of it,
especially when the trees and the grass are inviting me to join them in their annual end.
Their leaves fall away as does my hope for the future,
while the grass loses its green and I cover up my thighs with band aids and leggings and “THIS SEASON’S MUST-HAVE’S FOR WINTER.”
My eyes lose their light, and they turn from luminous to lifeless.
I know I need to learn how to water myself,
because winter will never take care of me the way the spring does.

The Bull – Austin Biggerstaff

Poetry

The Bull
by Austin Biggerstaff

From all my best of days on to the dark,
these happy thoughts turned into dreaded worst;

You have yet to see me let loose and best,
over the edge – my thermometer burst;

Now I’m ready to bang heads once again,
one year of watching and seeing time fly;

Now watching hurts so I recede to den,
they question integrity – I don’t lie;

For with this in me I cannot believe,
A fire – a passion – this heat my ears leak;

This love for it only grows as to grieve,
the tamer once – now the bull – I’m at peak;

The day won’t come soon enough to compete,
this anger comes from feeling incomplete.