Women Writers of the Triad is looking for photography that we will use on our website and potentially other marketing pieces and we would love your help:
Photographers: We are looking for photography to use throughout our site. It might be a flower in bloom. It might be a bank of roses. We'll know it when we see it.
The words are hiding
from me
again.
I awoke,
certain they had summoned me;
but now
they have crept
out of sight,
engaged in their endless game
of hide-and-go-seek.
I search
under the thesaurus,
beside the dictionary,
but for all the words there
none adhere to me.
Then this notebook opens
revealing a welcoming page
and from my pencil lead
the poem bursts forth,
snickering quietly to itself.
Susan Dean Wessells
Susan’s muse has bitten her! and we are the lucky recipients. Thank you so much for joining us here, Poet Susan, and sharing your work. — Melissa
Contemplative
as a wizened nun
he nestles in my arms,
regarding his universe
with a contented sigh.
Mandalas of dust motes
morph new designs
while phantoms unseen
(by me)
draw his unblinking gaze.
Head tucked in
and upside down
he sleeps
(and softly snores).
I cradle him,
humbled
by his absolute trust.
A study in serenity,
he instructs me
in the zen of being.
“It seems if there is a cat in the house of a poet at least one poem will be generated extolling the feline. This is my de rigeur cat poem.” – Susan Dean Wessells
What is that happened
When we were yet to be
As we were
So long ago now it seems
Waiting, watching, wondering
As we glanced above and below
All we imagined
So long ago now it seems
What is it that happened
And where did the wind go
Pamela W Wells
-drawing perfection
She was there,
and he,
entranced.
staring at her elegant figure,
her curves,
her skin.
soft and angelic;
pure felicity.
so he drew.
a white, beautiful canvas,
made spectacular by her,
and her body.
Click on his name to read more of Aaron’s work. Thank you, Aaron, for sending us your wonderful poem!
Dark of Night
So long ago
now it seems
back between dreams
and in between the sheets
So far away
now it seems
I lost it
dropping unnoticed
Into the pages of life
a journey
through infinite space
familiar but distant
Like a recurring dream
where one is running
getting nowhere
shouting without making sound
Past words vibrating
against my heart
silent and still
as the dark of night
pjw
Pamela J Wells
Visit Pamela at her blog: http://maiasong.wordpress.com
Thank you once again, Pamela! We so enjoy you being a part of our community.
Please come back often. – Melissa
