Friday, July 4, 2014

July 2014 Poetry Page







“To desire and strive to be of some service to the world, to aim at doing something which shall really increase the happiness and welfare and virtue of mankind - this is a choice which is possible for all of us; and surely it is a good haven to sail for.”

- Henry van Dyke
source

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POEM OF THE MONTH



TEACH ME
by James G. Piatt


the mermaid's song, to understand the laughter of a child, decode the Zephyr's windy messages, the sun's heated voice, and the moon's cool rhythms as they cover my soul, to savor the herb's spicy tang, the sweet taste of cool water after a long trek, the soothing grace of a soft pillow at night, and the orange dawn when I arise, teach me how to remember the sound of honest laughter, forget the voices of avarice, the beauty of colorful flowers, the mightiness of towering pines, to love the unlovable, and care for those in need, teach me the essence of the silent lake, the still pond, and the whistling of Birch trees bending in the wind, to grasp the essence of the rumbling sound of waterfalls, and the soft murmuring of the dark earth, teach me to remember the rhythm of peaceful times, and forget the tempo of bloody wars, the cadence of our short life, and to appreciate calm and quiet days, teach me to savor each hour, and have dignity among the undignified, to bend when I wish to stand rigid, and to listen to those of contrary hearts, to hear choirs of angels, and the thunderous poems of an ocean's rushing tide, teach me not to wallow in my own misfortunes, but help me to give solace to those who have real misfortunes, to be that which I can be, and forgo that, which I cannot, to accept success with humility, and failure with elegance, to take the road less traveled, and not the treacherous path of pride,
teach me to love the truth, and shun that which is not, to embrace righteous souls and avoid false voices, to comprehend the artist's mind, the poet's soul and the writer's skill, to desire fewer things,
to be satisfied with less, and enjoy simple Wednesdays, teach me the way to create serenity in a world filled with the din of war and terror, 
not to fear the darkness of the tomb or the crackling of my aging bones, but especially how to take your hand, and listen closely to your voice.


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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ATTENTION - AT EASE
by Floriana Hall


As soldiers train, the call is made
Attention! At Ease!
It's the same in the big parade
For spectators young or grayed.

Hands over chests as we stand
In honor of our Veterans marching
Carrying our country's flag
The pride of our freedom land.

Passing bands get our hands clapping
Happiness for days of sun
And music, candy, such fun!

The Fourth of July is patriotic awareness
Of sacrifice and preparedness
To keep our domain free from war -
Those who fought, heroes they are!

A day to remember how lucky we were born
Free citizens, but also to mourn
And honor those who gave their lives for us.
https://mail.google.com/mail/images/cleardot.gif

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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LET'S GO METS!
by Susan Marie Davniero


Baseball season begins
Cheering Mets on to win
Bob and Susan at Opening Day
Let’s go Mets all the way
Stadium fans cheer and roar
Run the bases and score
Teams in field line up by name
To play the baseball game
It’s a pitch and hit to home
Under the stadium dome
By a swing not allowed
The ball is tossed to foul
Suddenly Bob stands up tall
Bob catches the foul ball
Bob’s lucky catch took aim  
As the Mets won the game



Bob & Susan Davniero at Shea Stadium, 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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IN YOUTH
by Roger Singer


In youth, muscles are wings
shaping limitless places with blocks
of living dreams.

Youth never feigns at death or
ill comforting places tight on time.

Bold with thunder passes
quickly overhead, releasing dark skies
and stars without names.

Summers are the blood of youth, never ending and
never counting, the loves of whispered names.


ROGER SINGER served as a medical technician at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Florida for three and a half years during the Vietnam era. While stationed at MacDill, he attended evening classes through the University of Tampa. When discharged, he began studies at the University of South Florida and attained his Associate and Bachelor degrees. In 1977, Dr. Singer attained his chiropractic doctorate from Logan College of Chiropractic in St. Louis, Missouri. He has had over 500 poems published in magazines, on the Internet and in books. His poetry has appeared in Westward Quarterly, Black Book Press, Avocet, SP Quill, The Unrorean, Underground Voices, Language & Culture and The Tipton Poetry Journal. Contact 



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WHEN WHALES
by Danae Ellwood


Leagues ago, hot sun baking hard the land,
two-legged beasts sought cool water
And tiny fishes for food. Mammoth size dark
On the surface, scaring prey away. 
Until that day, one day – 
While tiny legs still pulled to shore, one,
Ahead of her time, stayed back in sea’s embrace,
And floating felt the comfort.  Until that one day
When, with wake fanned out and trailing,
She lives that moment, one moment
Of flight beneath the waves –
And stays, to seek another.
For water washes clear desire,
upbraids rocks into sand for travel,
Rules the land locked and two-legged –
Yet frees the one with legs tucked in, 
as she escapes 
Gravity, loosed and weightless in her wingless glide,
free flying.


DANAE ELLWOOD makes her living in Portland, Oregon. She loves exploring the impossible to tame Columbia River and spends as much time floating, swimming, and paddling on it as she can. Contact 



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PARADE DAY
by Joanna M. Weston


pink balloons float
from scooter handles

ribbons stream across traffic
while a choir
practices

in the parking lot

no room for cars
amongst massed bands
marching between
motorbikes

four girls spin batons
heads duck  a dog barks
a clown somersaults

I try to find a parking space
so I can leave books
at the library
am directed to stop
deliver and go

weave slowly between drummers
bagpipers    trick cyclists
taking in the dazzle
of this sunlit parade


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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TRAVEL-WEARY
by Patricia Wellingham-Jones


No matter how provocative
the foreign moon
with its long slide into alien sea
or how seductive
the star-brushed nights,
there comes a time
when I get exasperated
with wrapping my tongue
around unpronounceable words,
exotic foods – no matter how succulent –
and being constantly nice.
I yearn then for my own home –
even the basement looks good –
and long to melt my bones
into my own mattress.


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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OUR 25th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY
(July 1)
by Susan Marie Davniero

Our 25th Wedding Anniversary
It’s our marriage history
When on July 1st we renew
Our wedding vows saying “I do”
At Our Lady of Perpetual Church
Draw near to arrive we approach
Blissfully we come and smile
Holding hands to walk down the aisle
Renewed commitment to each other
After 25 years, we’re still together



Susan & Bob Davniero Renewing Their Wedding Vows 
at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church, Credit: Susan Marie Davniero

Susan & Bob Davniero on their 25th Wedding Anniversary
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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CRICKET UNDER THE STOVE
by Richard Holleman

My wife believes it comes from the stove.
Tuesday she saw a white cricket
pop under the electric stove.
(I want to name him “George The First”)
Perhaps a misses waited for him
and he commuted home, skipping
through traffic of stomping sandals.
My wife programmed the stove, 400,
to burn them out like Arizona;
The cricketing stopped… then resumed.
George is loud and not welcomed here.
But I don’t worry. I’m pretty sure  
he and the misses are outside,
camping the red berry bushes,
not fretting little moochers.

P.S.
“George” was a bachelorette
under the stove in San Diego.



RICHARD HOLLEMAN is a computer programmer in his early forties although he originally studied English Literature at the University of Oregon. After graduation he married his soul mate who remains with him to this day. He has been published in Awakenings Review (Spring 2011), Midstream (March 1995), and Pacifica (1996). Contact 



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MY PLEA
by Shirley Securro
  
Bring our troops home is “My Plea”
They all have friends or a family
Loved ones to pray for them each day
They’ve been sent so far away

They need to love, to laugh, to enjoy
Their babies born after their deploy
Give them the opportunity to see
Their offspring; their genealogy

Hearts broken and losses galore
Our troops are scattered shore to shore
It’s time to bring them home
I know that they’re feeling so alone

Lord, keep them safe till their return
The key thing that we have learned:
They’ve suffered so much for you and me
Bring them home is “My Plea”



SHIRLEY SECURRO has been published in "Best Poems and Poets of 2005," "Who's Who In International Poetry," "Famous Poets of the Heartland," and more. She was a finalist in a chapbook contest with AMERICA "Let Freedom Reign" OUR SACRIFICES OUR HEROES by Bear House Publishing. She has designed two book covers for other authors and does poetry readings for churches, weddings, funerals, and meetings. Contact 



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BY CHANCE
by Debbie Hilbish


When first I caught
a glimpse of you
from the corner of my eye
I thought of peaches
clean sweet smelling
soft to the touch juicy peaches
I wanted to squeeze you
idly
wishing my skin was half as firm
my essence half as sweet
seeming all
I had managed to retain
was the bruises and fuzz

When first we met you offered
to share a bit of yourself with me
to enrich me with antics
so clever and seemingly
owned only by youth
at the peak of cleverness
indeed it brought a
sense
of rain to a dry desert
allowing the cracked dry earth
moisture enough to bloom again
with memory
wisps of forgotten capers

Sharing of secrets
not happening overnight
like the age
creeping over my flesh
which mostly
I don’t mind
nor the questions I see
burning
that do not transpire between us
no sharing of clucking tongues
judging the peach judging the desert
You being at the beginning
of journeys and I at the end


DEBBIE HILBISH has been writing poetry since she was a young teen. Her first book of poetry was published in 2007, followed by a published chapbook in 2010. Debbie has held poetry readings throughout the southwest and had seminars, sponsored by Arizona and New Mexico libraries, on poetry appreciation for young adults. She also hosted an eight week author’s fair at The Reader’s Oasis bookstore in Quartzsite, Arizona from 2008 through 2012. She is presently directing her energy towards working on her first novel. Contact 



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DANDELION
by Kristin M. Morris

At the end of my long green
Slender stalk and jagged leaves

A pop pop poppus

With its delicate, whimsical
Magical strands

Your great grandmother used to make
Soup from my stems

Just one sip would bring forth
Sweet dreams and good luck

Gently lift my tiny, white
Soft seeds to your lips

Exhale...wish


KRISTIN M. MORRIS is a writer of fiction and poetry. She is currently at work on her first young adult novel, an audience in which she is most familiar with as she is a mom of teen twin boys and spends her days as a Spanish middle school teacher. When not at work on her Chromebook with a new poem or story, Kristin can be found concocting something new in the kitchen or driving around all that New England has to offer. Contact



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AFTER THE RAIN
by Patricia Crandall


Gold cones
on pine trees
hang
like prisms
in a painted lady’s ear



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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RED, WHITE, & BLUE
by Shirley Securro
  
Red, white, and blue
Our flag so free
Courage and bravery

Strength unfold
Ever so bold
Red, white, and blue
Ever so true! 


SHIRLEY SECURRO has been published in "Best Poems and Poets of 2005," "Who's Who In International Poetry," "Famous Poets of the Heartland," and more. She was a finalist in a chapbook contest with AMERICA "Let Freedom Reign" OUR SACRIFICES OUR HEROES by Bear House Publishing. She has designed two book covers for other authors and does poetry readings for churches, weddings, funerals, and meetings. Contact 



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SUMMER SUN
by Floriana Hall


It seems forever to actually arrive
After the rain and chill of spring
Temperatures suddenly rise many degrees
In the warmth of the summer sun.

There’s no other season’s solar shine
That fills love and life with glee
Of just being here to absorb the joy
In the warmth of the summer sun.

The summer sun means cookouts
Swimming and playing outdoor sports
Children and adults riding bicycles
In the warmth of the summer sun.

Hiking in the woods where the wildflowers bloom
Walking down the street with a lover,
Babies content in strollers go to sleep
In the warmth of the summer sun.

Summer, please don’t pass so fast
We need a long reprieve
From winter’s gloom that seems to last
Till the warmth of the summer sun.



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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YANKEE DOODLE DAYS
AT JONES BEACH
by Susan Marie Davniero


It was the Fourth of July
Looking back for a while
Family holiday at Jones Beach
Childhood memories within reach
 July 4th on the past calendar page
Debuting on the boardwalk stage
Dance of my sisters and I parading
Yankee Doodle Dandy song serenading
Taking patriotism all the way home
No matter wherever I roam
My Yankee Doodle Days preach
Don’t leave patriotism at the beach
https://mail.google.com/mail/images/cleardot.gif


Bob and Susan Davniero at Bergen Point Park in Long Island, NY
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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july celebrity poet 

Henry van Dyke
(1852 – 1933) 

nationality: American



Henry van Dyke – Credit: Wikimedia Commons






AMERICA FOR ME


'Tis fine to see the Old World and travel up and down 
Among the famous palaces and cities of renown, 
To admire the crumblyh castles and the statues and kings 
But now I think I've had enough of antiquated things. 

So it's home again, and home again, America for me! 
My heart is turning home again and there I long to be, 
In the land of youth and freedom, beyond the ocean bars, 
Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of stars. 

Oh, London is a man's town, there's power in the air; 
And Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair; 
And it's sweet to dream in Venice, and it's great to study Rome; 
But when it comes to living there is no place like home. 

I like the German fir-woods in green battalions drilled; 
I like the gardens of Versailles with flashing foutains filled; 
But, oh, to take your had, my dear, and ramble for a day 
In the friendly western woodland where Nature has her sway! 

I know that Europe's wonderful, yet something seems to lack! 
The Past is too much with her, and the people looking back. 
But the glory of the Present is to make the Future free- 
We love our land for what she is and what she is to be. 

Oh, it's home again, and home again, America for me! 
I want a ship that's westward bound to plough the rolling sea, 
To the blessed Land of Room Enough, beyond the ocean bars, 
Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of stars. 




















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

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