Carolyn Crossley

Divinity

You live in me, so
deep I neither hear nor see,
but know – you are there.
You have been there from the start.
In the gaps I feel your pulse.

Silence

I hear you in the
deepest silence, you are the
heart of my spirit.

Love

Universal love
links us all together like
hearts beat together.

The Witch Within

We are by Goddess
blesséd, she who lives within;
wakes the witch in us.
Reconnecting us to our
roots, chakras and ancestors.

~~~

Carolyn Crossley©TheVixenOfVerse has been a poet since 2002. She originally used poetry as therapy after losing her younger son to heroin. She now concentrates on her blog: backfromdarknesstolight.com and will publish her first anthology in 2021.

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Chrissie Morris Brady

change enveloped me
two decades have passed
I am not that girl

~~

You miss my laugh
in this telephone call
I am morphed by care

~~

Seven bullets in his back
in plain view of his children
all because his skin is black

~~

I’m an idiot, forgive me
said the man I love
it was someone else who ran away

~~~

Chrissie lives on the south coast of England and is much traveled. She writes articles, essays, and poetry, and is published by many publishers as well as appearing in quite a number of anthologies. Her latest collection,  Caught By The Moon, is available from Amazon. You can read her other thoughts on her blog – Writer and psychologist. My health, a journey with two life threatening diseases

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Ali Grimshaw

I will sing you…

with low notes strongly pure
light through dust of your worries

courage for times of cold silence
when you need the music to return

I will sing you in truth until
you remember the voice born with you.

Yet to be Seen

where blue crosses yellow
melting green, life will meet us
in colors combined

Surfaces

How is it that water
is such a crafted artist?

Consistently she reflects
the whole of light and darkness

grays blurred or glint of rose
upon watery wavering waves.

Then offers still life in contrasts
days of no wind, glasslike

surfaces smoothly reflective 
that stop me in time.

Thunderstorm Conversations

Lean into the loud
hold curiosity’s hand
consider this thundering
consider it may not mean what you thought.

This crack clashing boom 
only an illusion of danger.

Maybe it isn’t a disastrous end
but a calling of resounding strength
a breaking through from your ancestors
reverberating out across the sky,

“We are with you.”

~~~

Ali Grimshaw contributes to the world as an educator, life coach, and a poet. She is passionate about facilitating shared writing experiences and group inquiry so that others can experience a connection with their own authentic voices. Her poems have been published in several anthologies and journals including Vita Brevis, Right Hand Pointing, and Ghost City Review. You can find her writing circle offerings and her poetry on her blog at flashlight batteries.

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Jaya Avendel

Hope

Though reality
Is often stark there is a
Place where the Queen wears
Creativity for a
Crown and inspiration flows.

Change

Alone in the dark
She waited for the door to
Open unsure of
What stood on the other side
But her heart open to it.

Strength

Our cries make them
Tremble with the ground as it
Quakes with silent strength
Though pain may rack our lands
We refuse to be silent.

Eclipse

Once in a circle
The earth catches up to the
Moon cloaking her in
Its glowing red shadow then
The cycle begins anew.

~~~

This is Jaya Avendel’s second feature with The Short of It. You can read her first here. Jaya lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, where she dips her pen into the inkwell of fantasy and prose. Often inspired by life in the forest around her, she writes at Nin Chronicles

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Goutam Dutta

pxhere.com

Indian summer 

Fallen leaves, yellowed.
Hot winds blast during the day.
Sweet Mangoes beckon.

Festival of Colours-Holi 

Hues of fire on trees.
Festival of hues on cheeks.
Pristine moonlit night.

Monsoon Hues-India 

Wet stray on road,
Searching for shelter from rain.
Thunderclaps exhort.

An entry in Lockdown Dairy 

Bare roads, sans human.
Nature sets up symphony,
With birds, bees and breeze.  

The beautiful Taj Mahal-India 

On Yamuna’s bank,
Love’s monument pristine white;
With the moonbeams vie.

Indian Winter nights 

Winter nights-
Sitting around a fire
Waiting for the morn.

A cough,
Cold air’s whiplash;
Invites sufferers’ curse.

Long nights
In a donated quilt.
A homeless prays in sleep.

~~~

Goutam is passionate about poetry and writes whenever something or someone touches his heart. He lives in Kolkata, India and writes poetry in English, Hindi and Bengali. His book on English poetry “Hues of Life” (Notion Press) can be found at Amazon. He can be reached at gdutta17@gmail.com. Goutam blogs at Straight from Heart.

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Akhila Siva

resilient

bougainvillea seeds,
resilient and wild; they’ve
mastered the alters

concealed

The beats of ocean
buried in a dew as feels of
blue sky in a cloud

imperative

Strong are the roots
which are in a relation
with impenetrable rocks

detached

That dew on the leaf;
there, just ’cause it has to
not there, since shaken off

~~~

Akhila is the founder and sole contributor of the two blogs – Words and Notion and
Quality Notion. She is a self motivated life long learner who loves to decode signs from the universe. She is the author of the General Knowledge book “Know them, One answer to many questions”. She tweets @wordsandnotion.

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Freya Pickard

Once upon a time, in the world of Nirunen …

Werebeast

once a warrior
the beast within now rampant
lost in hunger surge

Enril-tura

wind haunts hollow shells
where water flowed, dust now drifts
clawed hand stretches high

Gwanutta

safe within these wards
green leaves hide secret city;
eerie song whispers

Amah

feathered wings smolder
vine erupts, flowers, explodes
eternally burns

Imelenti

pewter stone rises
craggy head cloaked in rainclouds;
the last mountain looms

~~~

Freya Pickard finds fulfillment in writing about the mythical world of Nirunen in both poetry and fantasy novels. This is her 2nd feature on The Short of It. She is currently working on her epic fantasy, The Kaerling, and gets her inspiration for the villains from the people she meets in the hospitality industry.

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Goff James

Love’s Dreams Star-kissed Dance 

Night’s soft music plays
Lost on mem’ries drifting breeze
Love’s dreams star-kissed dance  

Sailing Paper Boats

Sailing paper boats
Adrift on dream’s starred ocean
Love’s safe harbour sought

Whispered on the Breeze

Whispered on the breeze
All my secrets told to you
Scribed in twilight’s hues

Held in Love’s Embrace

Held in Love’s embrace
Sipping moonlight’s ecstasy 
Treasured moments shared 

Turning in Circles

Turning in circles
Not wanting to run away
Love’s merry-go-round

Falling from the Stars

Falling from the stars
Flying on Love’s broken wings
Heartache’s lullaby

~~~

Goff JamesThe Short of It’s very first featured poet on February 6, 2020 – is a grumpy eccentric; who, in the darkness of night plays with words and tries to write poetry. His musings display an interest in that which can be seen and unseen; that which is heard and unheard; and, all those things that go unnoticed in between.

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Anita Neal

A Monarch Task

The warmth awakens me but I am tightly bound. I can’t move. My lifeblood is pulsing through my veins, waiting to explode. My head is pounding and screaming to break free of this dungeon. Yet, I can’t move. A crack appears at the top of the cell, bright light is filtering in. I push with my might against the wall, as the crack begins to grow. I feel the closeness of freedom. I can taste it in the air, and feel it in the warm light. Pushing again, the binding splits. I roll out of the slit, stretching, feeling the ecstatic of freedom. The warmth strengthens me for my mission, my colors unfurl refracting the light on the leaves. Time is wasting, I must hurry, only six weeks of life at best. 

Honorable Purple

Of all the colors in the rainbow, one color shows more fare
It adorns the kings of foreign lands, woven in robes that they wear
But clothes and robes that are made by man cannot even compare
With the delicate beauty of nature’s flowers that bloom without a care

Their colors may vary from bloom to bloom, simply soft to very rare
Bees and butterflies don’t care about color as the nectar is there to share.

Please Don’t Leave

The most life-sustaining force in all creation is that of showing love
It melts together the heart and soul like was meant from above.
All of God’s creation was given this ability to express this vital feeling
For love, tenderness, and nurturing is what keeps this life from reeling
With no love around, darkness will ensue with a deep sense of foreboding
Fear will arise, and hope will flee leaving the heart and soul eroding
Don’t allow this eroding but hold on to loving, allow the sun to come in
Always keep these feelings alive, so if lost we will know how to begin.

~~~

Anita Neal enjoys writing poetry and shorts that reflect the beauty of nature and importance of love. The first two pieces are reflections of the beauty God created for us to enjoy. The third one shows the honor and importance of love we all need.

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Monica St. Hillaire

CLASH OF THE SYMBOLS

Along nature park,
Ladybug roams Petunia;
Swallow perched on branch.

AMBIENCE

Courtyard stroll displays,
Tulips tucked as Jasmine bloom;
Cloud covers full moon.

KING’S VICTORY

Amidst forest road,
Cheetah concedes Lion’s lunge;
Carcass near tree stump.

WHAT LIES AHEAD

Midday at seaside,
Sail of ship roughened by waves;
Lightning strikes land.

PUREST MORNING

Gardenias petals;
Hold dewdrops moisture and heat –
Summer bees invade.

CIRCLE OF LIFE

Field of Daffodils;
Leaves wither on moth pupa –
Cardinal flies by.

~~~

This is Monica’s second feature on The Short of It. Passionate about writing, she is on a mission to make her mark in the world of wordsmiths. Her love for a challenge draws her to the unique poetry that is haiku; a field she hopes to eventually master. Her journey has only begun. You can read more of her work at Tiny Tots Poetry.

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