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- Christmas sale on now till January 3, 2014 at Imaj...
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- Grab this poem this winter's evening it's a gift
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Most Popular Posts
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Inspired and Committed Author Gets the Job Done ASCENDING , a new novella, is on pre-release on Amazon. I'm really excited about ...
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Though it’s a standalone sequel, Penniless Souls is the second half of a two-part journey called the Lost Compass Love Series. Follow Pen...
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A Lovecraftian short story I wrote. Enjoy, folks, and don't forget the comments! I also would like the opportunity to publish it! ...
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TODAY we think about romance once again, and the healing properties of love in the face of adversity or error. I gave my review 4 stars. ...
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"Let your shoes do the talking" is the headline in GQ (Gentlemen's Quarterly), which you dudes should be paying attentio...
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Wow! This book should be required reading for any former or off duty Marines, and any active Marines (I am told there are no ex-Marines!)...
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Sandra Miller Sandra Miller is a writer and lives in New York. Two times a year she watches Friends sitcom. She loves salsa. Use...
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Karen's Killer Fixin's I'm honored to have been featured on Karen Docter's blog . For those readers who love bread...
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Ten Interview Questions for The Next Big Thing These questions are for my current release. 1. What is the working title of your...
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Why are the Light and Shadow Chronicles unique? My immersive fantasy novels A Chronicle of Chaos and The Shield of Soren are part o...
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Grab this poem this winter's evening it's a gift
Gifts for a Winter's Evening
This place—silver, cold,
frightened all the
elves away,
they like to play.
My sister's tall and thin
like winter wind
There was a place for her but not within
The suburbs but the furs
Here in Glenora.
Wait for a new year,
We can tell her
By the faery lights across her falling
on her icy face like stars and then
they warm her neglected soul like
concrete pierced by years of wear.
He is strong and won her and
the safe white house.
So happy.
She likes to play
but I will give my sister
ginger tea and cookies;
Lewis Carroll and a poem
As though I, too, were wealthy,
somehow a partner in a faery firm
of miscreants.
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