•  Annual Literary Reviews 

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POETIC MUSE

 

Have you heard the news?

I’m looking for my muse

she is my special friend

we are ascloseasthis

delighting in the joy

of poetry sublime

she speaks softly in a

mellifluous voice

such a delicate tone

that only a few can hear

together we go

here, there and everywhere

looking for inspiration

without any hesitation

 

If you see her

let her know

that I miss her

and won’t she please

come home?

 

Roberta A. McQueen

Award winning, widely published poet,

teacher, two chapbooks published

BALLERINA DREAMS

 

As a young girl I dreamed

of becoming a ballerina

mind full of fantasy

while doing dishes

 

Middle child of seven

so many chores

a baby to mind and

hand-me-downs to hem

 

Dancing on my toes

while baking bread

the mop was my partner

while cleaning floors

 

Imagining I was a dancer

Gave me a chance to escape

lost in rhyme while

laundry waited to be hung

 

Now I can dance

anytime I want to

dancing away my troubles

dancing away my pain

 

Won’t you be my partner

and dance with me?

 

Roberta A. McQueen

Performance Poets Association®

Quiet Strength

 

Leaning, over time, with both purpose and intent

the tree branch bends toward the water

Like nature’s ambassador

on a mission to befriend an alluring neighbor

 

By season’s end

She will have whispered her innermost thoughts

to this mysterious new friend;

secrets compiled over a lifetime

 

While the fiery red leaves that perch upon her

busily scream to be noticed

Their hectic chatter in various stages of conversation

Both in air and on the ground; disjointed and brief

 

The water does its rhythmic dance

echoing back the playful sentiments of the leaves

while content in knowing the branch, sturdy and strong,

Will remain to whisper to through the long, dark nights of winter

 

Catherine LaStella

Librarian,

fascinated by the

yin-yang duality of life

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writing poetry

 

 

it was natural as breathing

I’d write

about grandchildren growing up

driving home

doctors visits

whatever happened during the day

found its way into my poems

I’d write words that would sing

the music was light and liliting

 

 

when life became difficult

choices hard

I’d take a sheet of paper

and pour out my heart

 

 

 

sad

when things come easy

most people don’t know how gifted they are

 

 

I am no different

I took it for granted

announced that anyone can sit and write

truth is

anyone can

but no one should take a gift for granted

for now the music has disappeared

the gift is gone

and the writing I love so much

is so much harder to write

 

Joan Marg

Special projects director of the L.I. Writers Guild, member of two Farmingdale writing groups, honorable mention in 2004 Writer’s Digest contest