Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Poetry Corner is a regular feature in Writers in the Sky Newsletter published by Write On Creative Writing Services in Nashville, TN.

Poets are welcome to submit poems and a bio for each monthly issue of the eZine.

Here are the poems from March 2007 WITS Newsletter.


In the dark of the night

sleep is gone.

Awake and alone my fingers

feel my rosary beads.

What must the Blessed Virgin have

thought when asked to bear the son

of God?

Was she honored

or afraid?

What about Jesus when asked to

come here as a baby, grow up and

die for you and I?

I thank them for their pain for

you and me, praise them in

honor and glory.

I move my beads through my

fingers, one by one, praying

for you and I.

Dawn lights the sky.

Gail Livesay is fifty-six years old and lives in Berea, Kentucky with her husband Wayne. They have two children and two grandchildren. She considers her love of writing a gift from God.



Architect of literary concept and word; purveyor of adventure.

Utilizing characters, dialogue and circumstance to sustain a

Theme and construct a plot intended to reward readers while

Honoring the commercial expectations of the publisher and

Orchestrating, whenever possible, successive compositions that captivate

Readers and inspire followers.


Facing at times a dry spell and at others a torrent, we

Relish the opportunity to proudly market our skills and

Exercise our talents,

Exchanging our abilities for a fee.

Loving our chosen vocation

And the freedom afforded by it,

Novice and expert alike, we seek to refine our

Craft through determined efforts employed in the pursuit of



Nightfall appears, it is a night much like any other night.

Once again I find myself alone, one-on-one with this latest release.

Voracious is my appetite for the next installment; my curiosity soon will be quenched.

Early, quickly the plot evolves. I am drawn in. The captivating and

Lavish settings, the intriguing characters and their risk filled exploits… wait.

I’m no stranger to this place. This is familiar. I’ve been here before.

Somehow again, I’ve been transported to that place

That captivating place where I am the witness.


Many find that desire, competency and

Even commitment are all insufficient to allow us to easily

Navigate the early minefields of this arduous profession.

Therefore, someone with expertise and a willingness to guide

Others on their individual journeys can bring high value.

Recognition and gratitude go out to Yvonne Perry and “Writers in the Sky”.

Ken is a native Middle Tennessean, growing up in Nashville. A graduate of MTSU and resident of Murfreesboro, Ken has been a distribution manager for over 25 years. An avid reader of novels as well as business articles and books, he has admired writers and their work for years and desires to experience the joy of creating literary work of his own.

Yes I Knew

Honeysuckle Spring

That Bah Bing Sweet Smelling

Good Time Thing

Color Coded Bugs Flapping Let’s Party Wings

Touristy Lovers Those Flocking Birds

Set Their Nests

For New Born Guests

Abundance Roars

When It Rains It Pours

Dogwoods Light The Floors

In Godly Moors

Peachy Kind What A Find

Apple’s Got Green In Mind

Branches Dancing Buds Are Blind

Wind Is Whispering Now Your Mine

Red Bud Kisses Magic Vines

Azalea Blooms With Red And White

Cardinal Chirps Love’s My Flight

Ajuga Blue Springtime Flu

Yes I Knew

What I See Is Me

Finally Seeing You

Hal Manogue is the author of The 2007 Collection of Short Sleeves A Book For Friends

ISBN# 09778130-1-0 available in bookstores and on his website: http://www.shortsleeves.net/. Hal invites you to blog with him at http://halmanogue.blogspot.com/ To read articles Hal has written see http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=Hal_Manogue.

The Old Way Down

He went the old way down,
Tired and indifferent to the world around him,
Which in its ferocity, clawed desperately for change -
Regardless of its value, or its reason –
Only for the movement of it all.
Yet he clung rightfully to what was his,
In all its plain simplicity.
Knowing that his years
Estranged him from those of younger age –
Who in their confidence and rage,
Tore the known world from him -
And smothered him with deceit.
They knew not the value of honesty, and integrity,
And those little things which make a small life great.

He had prepared himself for these times
By the hardening of his heart,
And the strengthening of his will.
He looked at life through worldly eyes –
Some say jaded. . .but he was not as sophisticated as that.
He found himself, on those sunny days,
When the shadows play just right
Upon the grass and leaves and water and barns –
To thinking back upon his youth,
With all the carefree joy that it imposed,
On what was left of vivid memory:
The ambiance of sight and sound and smell and weather...
These things that left him with the knowledge
That he had lived when times were good -
And these thoughts had spun a gentle web of warmth
Around his heart -
Making it easy to let go.

Bewick Cory, born in the Netherlands and raised in Maine, currently lives in Cedar Hill, TN . He has played drums for touring bands and was Associate Editor of What's New Magazine, a music publication out of Boston, Massachusetts in the mid-seventies. Bewick wrote a monthly "fictional commentary" piece for Reality & the Market Place, a literary magazine out of Framingham, Massachusetts, and has had many poems and short stories published in various magazines. Currently "shopping around" with a book titled: Buck Snort -The Movie (The Northern Tribes) Bewick hopes to find a publisher willing to accept this book about a spiritual journey through the heart of Buck Snort, where fact and fiction become one in the endless circle of life.

The Extra Weight of Walking

The extra weight of walking,
Makes it hard to coincide -
With the sky above; the mud below,
And the swiftness of the tide.

The extra weight of walking,
Makes me want to stop and rest.
The burdens of so many years,
Sits like an anvil upon my chest.

The extra weight of walking,
Turns a smile into a frown.
Muscle vs. gravity -
As it works to pull me down.

Each day as I grow older,
Slowly losing to the fight,
My back is bent by nature’s law -
Until the day I see the light.

And to the young, who seem invincible -
Who hold their heads so high...
The extra weight of walking,
Will get them by and by.

Bewick Cory Cedar Hill, TN

This is my Life

The night winds rain down beating my senses dry.

I’m lost and alone in a barren oblivion;

Wandering blindly, seeking a common ground.

Peace knows no sanctity here.

My essence blatantly beaten against the tides,

This is my life.

February 3, 2007

Danielle Sharp is a twenty-four year old aspiring author. She has been writing poems since the early 1990’s—many of them based on her true encounters. Danielle lives in Michigan with her wonderful husband of three years.


Sleep lies in some galaxy

For people with clear conscience

For people who don’t have to think

For people with no problems.

Sleep lingers out in space

Waiting for one moment

Waiting for a peaceful face

Waiting to be stolen.

Sleep loves to taunt and tease

Like a drug it holds the power

Like death over a zombie

Persisting through each hour.

Sleep likes to rest upon my eyes

Out of nowhere it comes creeping

Peace seeps in and I drift out

And suddenly I’m…

Suzanne Karr moved to Nashville five years ago to pursue her music dream. She has written her own songs & is currently finishing an album. You can listen to a few of her tunes at www.myspace.com/suzannekarr. She is also a Realtor with Crye-Leike.

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