At times I trip out of my spin
And climb to the top tick-tock
I am thinking of fallen decades
And I know somewhere joy stopped.
The chimes stop for a midnight pause
A snug rest from the drum-beaten throbs
Twelve o’clock and I go ahead
Joy is somewhere but now it seems dead.
My mind catches peaks of the past
I close my wet eyes with regret
Pull a blanket over mistakes
And wonder why joy was lost.
The kitten curls up to be near
My dog snuggles close to this babe
They give warmth to the frosty night
And the three of us drowse on the bed.
So I smile and know it is true
That petals of joy do revive --
A warmth that is soft as the breeze
When it comes from the tap of a touch.
By Jeannette Saylor
By Tom Eck
As she lay in the shade, Zahra knew the end was near. The morning trek had been marked more by the time she crawled
The Conservative Corner
By Robert L. Nipper
What a Disappointment!
Please select one:
Online format Only articles (respond to any article here)
Magazine style format Articles
By Alejandro Grattan-Dominguez
For more editorials, visit: http://thedarksideofthedream.com
(Note: Given President Obama’s
The Life And Lessons Of St. Francis Of Assisi
By Dr. Lorin Swinehart
It was a bitterly cold Christmas Eve in 1223, in the tiny Italian mountain
Kay Davis Phone: 376 – 108 – 0278 (or 765 – 3676 to leave messages) Email: email@example.com
Front Row Center
By Michael Warren
The Pajama Game
By Richard Adler and Jerry Ross
Directed by Peggy Lord Chilton
Every Word Important
By Herbert W. Piekow
Every word a writer writes has meaning yes, sometimes they never get published or the book
Sandy OlsonPhone: 331-283-8529Email: firstname.lastname@example.org