<![CDATA[PAGE & SPINE - P-FEB '13]]>Mon, 23 Apr 2018 23:32:31 -0400Weebly<![CDATA[NANCY E. DAVIS]]>Fri, 22 Feb 2013 08:35:06 GMThttp://pagespineficshowcase.com/p-feb-13/nancy-e-davis

SPRING SONG

  
Sitting at my window looking at the mountain far,
mesmerized as sunlight overcomes the morning star,
I recall those many nights the snowflakes fell like rain,
Painting pretty patterns here upon this windowpane.

Now the sunlight glistens on the newly fallen snow.
Like a field of diamonds in the valley here below.
I can almost hear the soil beneath the mantle call,
missing warmth of sunlight since the onset of the fall. 

As the snow is dripping from the Aspen, Spruce and Pine
many thoughts of spring's rebirth are wandering through my mind.
Lis'ning for the lilting lyrics of the songbirds' trill, 
searching then for crocus blossoms sprouting on the hill.

Maybe spring is rushing things, but really who's to say?
Winter's cold was strong and bold but spring is on the way!

copyright 2013

 LOVE'S GLOW

  
I find that in the dead of night 
my thoughts go wan'dring back to you.
I see you in the candlelight
and savor all those nights we knew.

The magic in your fingertips
as they explored the depth of me.
The warm seduction of your lips
that put my heart in jeopardy.

For it belonged to you alone 
and only you could light the flame.
The love for me that you have shown
will ever in my heart remain.

I miss you so but this I know
as long as I can reminisce,
I'll see you in the candle glow 
and I'll recall your tender kiss.

copyright 2013

MY LOVE

  
How could I ere deny my love for you? 
For years it has been etched into my heart. 
So deeply now that nothing can undo 
not knowing where it ends or where it starts. 
A love so strong that it controlled the beat 
when you were here and took me in your arms. 
Emotions flowing from your kiss so sweet 
till I became a puppet to your charms. 
But fate confines me to the realm of dreams 
and flames of love dissolve the vision fair. 
Appearing in a light mist now it seems 
your smile will vanish though I know t'was there. 
And yet in reverie I seek your face 
my love is strong and cannot be erased.

copyright 2013 

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<![CDATA[LEE ALLEN HILL]]>Sat, 16 Feb 2013 02:42:59 GMThttp://pagespineficshowcase.com/p-feb-13/lee-allen-hill

THE UNDERTAKER'S UNDERWEAR

She slipped the knots
She stripped the tumblers
She traded shots
with ego-crumblers

She greased the pig
and teased the twig
she's been a clone
for men alone
and made it real
all over the phone

There's nothing more
but age, and less
unless you count
the last dismount...
the overall we all must bare
to the undertaker's underwear.

copyright 2013

  

NEUROTICA, 
through the window

The snow-frosted driveway between our two houses
that's where we waited
for the school bus ... and the inevitable.
Her name was Janelle.

Both twelve
Both piled and mild
layered and lacquered ...
layered beyond any shape
against the grizzly morning cold.

We sniffled and stamped our feet
too busy being embarrassed
too busy being too busy to look
at one another being too busy.

In the fresh last-night snow
lay a clear set of footprints.  mine.
to and fro
outside her ground floor bedroom window
but we were too busy
to take notice.
Too busy
each offering silent prayers
to the Sun-God of
Early Morning Melting.

copyright 2013

  
ABOUT LEE ALLEN HILL
READ MORE STORIES BY LEE ALLEN HILL
READ POETRY BY LEE ALLEN HILL
READ ESSAYS BY LEE ALLEN HILL
READ CRUMBS BY LEE ALLEN HILL
****************************************************************************
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Ted Tillotson and
DRAGON LAIR BOOKS
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<![CDATA[CHARLES LUCAS]]>Fri, 08 Feb 2013 08:17:19 GMThttp://pagespineficshowcase.com/p-feb-13/charles-lucas




PLAYING DOCTOR

young exploring minds 
studying life's mysteries 
anatomy interests

copyright 2012











AGING IN STYLE

In this life, we took chances 
Ignoring all the glances 
We went about romancing 
As our age kept advancing

copyright 2012

SLOWING DOWN

dancing in the rain 
is no longer my forte 
hospital two step

copyright 2012









TREACHERY

black ice covered roads 
a rejected lover's heart 
destination tears

copyright 2012













****************************************************************************
author 
Ted Tillotson and
DRAGON LAIR BOOKS
invite 
SP/POD Authors
Free book promotion 
Free detailed information on interior and cover design
Writers
Free lectures and writing tips
******************************************************************************

]]>
<![CDATA[DOROTHY TAYLOR]]>Sat, 02 Feb 2013 04:12:01 GMThttp://pagespineficshowcase.com/p-feb-13/dorothy-taylor

MY DARLING OF THE NYLON ARMPITS

My darling of the nylon armpits.
 I can’t pick you up.  
Two-year old and a grandma writhe
 in crocheted vermillion.
It’s fun and annoying.
Points of principle see no resolution.
Are you programmed to wriggle my little piglet?
Why don’t you want picked up?
You have armpit tone when it suits.
See the train that no longer says choo choo.
Feel the wind that closes your eyes.
See from this height.
 I want to show you life from this level.
You and me - naughty and haughty.
See what there IS.
IS is exciting like a Russian doll -
four live generations to my little squirmer.
Let me tell you about everything.
Let me show you seeds and water.
Sun and grapes.
Let me show you drainpipes and lace.
Impudence and grace.
Let me infuse your mind.
My darling – when you are willing.
 Arms down, straighten that ribcage.
My pick-up thumbs will lovingly engage.

copyright 2013

THE GANGRENE OF GREED

A ratio of one in forty-five is now one in forty-eight.
Sitting on a trembling time bomb of proletariat hate.
There’s a gulf in prosperity and the god that was Mao
is replaced by the money god to whom all kow-tow.

The poor man’s dirt poor and can’t buy his health care.
The rich man in his opulence cares not about welfare.
He has a diamond studded watch. His taps are gold.
His huge heating bills are negligible; he’s never cold.

The pauper grovels in dirt; has no means to clean.
He’s out of employment and his existence is lean.
He roots around in the garbage for a morsel to savour.
He doesn’t expect charity; it’s never in his favour.

The first’s thought of the other is generally fleeting.
After all he has earned his crust in many a meeting.
By wheeling and dealing and dabbling in fraud,
he stands proud of his wealth before his money god.

The second has no education or nous to devise escape
And all that’s left is to scratch, scrimp and scrape.
His dream of comfort is a longing that will never abate.
He sees from his fate how some lives can never equate.

The pressure of the gulf pushes him out in the cold.
He’ll never span the hiatus before he grows old.
The depth of his helplessness does not compare
to the height of the avarice of those who won’t share.

As the time bomb trembles, it’s a dangerous time.
People are talking about what’s yours and what’s mine.
The under-privileged are quietly measuring status,
telling the whole world not to falsely estimate us.

Socialism means paying for the poor through taxes,
giving those who are willing a chance on life’s axis.
  Let’s spin Capitalism and Socialism; they can co-exist.
Let’s know from Temptation what’s there to resist.

The gangrene of greed grows freely in Corruption's fist.

copyright 2013

ABOUT DOROTHY TAYLOR
STORIES BY DOROTHY TAYLOR
POEMS BY DOROTHY TAYLOR
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