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National Poetry Month

By Brenda S. Anderson

Her laughter broke the silence
The air shook with violence
What was there before
Is now no more
It fills the holes
Comforts and consoles
Lightens the atmosphere
Love has broken the air here.

De Funiak Lake
by Wallace Bruce

A lotus-land where TIME forgets its date,
A dreaming-place beneath the swaying trees:
A lake so pure it seems the wedded mate
Of yon fair sky, before the rustling breeze
To rippling laughter wakes its gentle breast,
Showing it, too, is human: Oh, what joy
To roam in sunlight here, king Natures guest,
Wooing her smile! or, bliss without alloy,
To watch the moonlight kiss the lapsing wave
With one we love, and speak with answering eyes
The language Paradise ne'er lost, but gave
Lest man should be an outcast from the skies.
No spot so sweet; no water half so blue;
God's crowning circle wrought with campus true.

(Wayside Poems 1895)

Drinking the sunset
by Brenda Anderson

Wrap your hands around its warm glow
Breathe in its pinks, reds, and yellows
Swirl until bright orange appears
Taste the spicy, earthy flavors
Sip slowly ‘fore the stars wake up
Drinking the sunset from a cup.

Sunset in a Cup
by Brenda Anderson

Will you bring me the sunset in a cup
So that upon its flavors I might sup?
Savor slowly the warmth of orange pekoe
Just a hint of red in Mayan cocoa
Smell the sweetness of peppermint mocha
Mellowing out with lavender vodka
Ending the day with creation’s flavors
Bursting in beauty that never waivers


Two Haikus by Dan Owens

The blue winter dove
Sings a lovely lonesome song
Where is my true love?

El gato azul
Maullando en la noche
Yo veo mi tumba


Our Castle

Our laughter, our cries: the
chi in its plastic.
Our memories we gave
to the Castle In the Skies.
White walls, a green slide
Stairs awaiting a sky; ready
to be held in play
The ground seems a century away

Cayli Henning


A Great Knowing

Once we were nascent and proclaimed as good
But we became torpid and liked to brood
On how ephemeral our own life is
Some tonsured and prayed and were religious
Others lost their way in fornication
Looking forward to the conflagration
What was good has now become corrupted
The Creator’s plan for us disrupted

Brenda S. Anderson

A Season of Knowledge

When torpid days of winter pass
And spring blossoms are barely nascent
Then summer bursts forth a conflagration
That tonsures the trees of ephemeral fall

Brenda S. Anderson
04/01/2017 Writers Group Prompt: Write a letter to a teacher that gave you a hard time in school.
(In the spirit of the prompt I wrote these two poems using words I came across while reading and
did not know.)


My Best Friend

Her eyes sparkle
My best friend
Her hugs are warm
Beginning to end
And her love has
No conditions
A nice parcel
Given to me
Meant to transform
Days so dreary
No love that lasts
Like my dolly

Brenda S. Anderson
(04/15/2017 Writers Group Prompt: Write about a favorite toy.)


Tastes like orange groves
Warm sunshine
And ripe strawberries

Blissfull smells of food
Fairgrounds and picnics

Sounds like innocence
Laughter and
Playing tag with friends

Touches from the wings of
Lightning bugs and night

Of days long gone by
Seen only
In a blinking eye

Brenda S. Anderson
(04/15/2017 Writers Group Prompt: Write about a favorite toy.)


Life is a Mystery and Is Meant to Be

Ah, the words…so important, yet so unimportant.
So helpful, yet so hurtful.
So spiteful, yet so sweet!
With a smile, I frown.
Both, how the power to turn it upside down.
When I do so.


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