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Volume 1, 2020

Senior Editor: David Fox; Production Editor: Joel Evans.

© 2020. All rights reserved.

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3 AUDIOBOOK COLLECTIONS

6 BOOK COLLECTIONS

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Contents

Brief Bios

1

Linda Amos

3

Michael Crayton Powell

4

Robert E. L. Nesbitt, Jr

5

Julie Spencer

7

Ginny Cope

8

M.T. Jamieson

9

Vicky Salazar

11

Eleanor Michael

13

Susan Marie Davniero

14

Jim Barney

16

Vicky Salazar

17

Jane Hutto

18

David Fox

19

Barbara Briggs Luczkowiak

20

Bill Watkins

21

John W. (Bill) Williams

21

John C. Mastor

21

Sheila B. Roark

22

Susan Marie Davniero

23

Vernon Waring

24

Susan Marie Davniero

25

David Fox

26

Carrie Quick

27

Arthur C. Ford, Sr.

28

Betty Streeter

28

Jae Judy A. Campbell

29

Sylvia Roberts

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Linda Amos, art by Barbara Briggs Luczkowiak 30

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Brief Bios

David Fox (Senior Editor) has been in Creative Inspirations, FFP

Poetry Forum, Full Moon Poetry 2019 Haiku Calendar., Northern

Stars, Nuthouse, Pancakes in Heaven and Westward Quarterly.

Joel Evans (Production Editor) is a distinguished professor emeritus at Hofstra University and a widely published author.

Linda Amos, Susan Marie Davniero, Jane Hutto, M.T. Jamieson, Barbara Briggs Luczkowiak, John C. Mastor, Lydia Moccero, Michae1 Crayton Powell, Carrie Quick, Sylvia Roberts, Betty Streeter, Vernon Waring, John W. (Bill) Williams, and editor Cory Meyer have poems in Pancakes in Heaven. Susan has essays in them. Susan and Barbara have artwork in them. And Jane, M.T., Carrie and John have had letters in them.

Linda Amos, M.T. Jamieson, Barbara Briggs Luczkowiak, Robert E.L. Nesbitt (submitted by his wife, Ellen M. Nesbitt), Michel Crayton Powell, Carrie Quick, Betty Streeter, and editor Beverly Kleikamp all have poems in Northern Stars.

Michael Crayton Powell and editor Joanne Tolson have had poems in issues of Full Moon Poetry.

Ginny Cope has a children’s poetry book called Animal Names, 12 pages with cartoons. It is published by Atlantic Pacific Press Magazine/Journal, in South Dartmouth, MA. It is edited by Christine Leimbach Walen. She has appeared in recent issues of

Full Moon Poetry, Pancakes in Heaven, and Northern Stars.

Jane Hutto, John C. Mastor, Vernon Waring, Sheila B. Roark, and editor Shirley Anne Leonard have poems in Westward Quarterly.

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Jane Hutto, M.T. Jamieson, Barbara Briggs Luczkowiak, Lydia Moccero, Carrie Quick, Vicky Salazar, Betty Streeter, Robert E.L.

Nesbitt (submitted by his wife Ellen), Sylvia Roberts, and editor

Arthur C. Ford, Sr., have recent poems in The Poetry Explosion

Newsletter (The PEN).

John C. Mastor, Eleanor Michael, Michael Crayton Powell Crayton Powell, Betty Streeter, and editor M.J. Reynolds have poems in issues of Creative Inspirations.

Finally, I want to mention one of my poet mentors and my friend Barb Reiher Meyers. She has passed away. I don’t know how old she was, or the cause of death. I do know she led a group, Live Poets Society, which did workshops, edited a weekly poetry newsletter (which mentioned people’s

accomplishments, and reviews of local magazines --

including mine, and events in Nassau, Suffolk County, Queens and some in Manhattan). She also was the poetry coordinator for “Northport Arts in the Park,” a yearly function. She will be greatly missed by many.

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Excerpted from NEVER POSTPONE JOY,

A Free Verse Poetry Anthology by Linda Amos.

There’s Just Something Wonderful About Christmas

Perhaps, it is all the fault of those slick ad-people at Hallmark Cards Company in St. Louis, MO., who create and produce those cheesy TV ads about Christmas that make one want to believe that this Christmas will be different ....

Perhaps, it is all about hope and how it springs eternal in the human heart after the first of December.

However, as a widow, these past eight Christmases; haves been hard on my heart. It appears to me that while everyone around me, in the malls and downtown, is shopping and bright and cheery, emphasizing our differences, me, I am alone and lonely.

That does not mean I don’t partake of shopping for Christmas presents for those I love. I do enjoy shopping all year long, searching out values, and bargains that fit into my meager shopping allowance. Plus I do send about 100 cards to those who are shut-in and who also have lost those they Jove while traveling down life’s path to where we are now.

It is just that I don’t know anyone, in my circle of friends and remaining family members, who celebrate a Hallmark Christmas, even though we do try. Me, I put up a large artificial Christmas tree, which I named “Herbert” after my late brother. And I spend hours decorating it each year with a different theme. This year it will be silver and my favorite shade of royal blue, with sentimental touches and 1,000 tiny clear lights to shine bright.

When I get home from a Jong day of volunteering or church, I can walk in the front door, hit the switch and shout, “Hi Herbert, I am home!”. And it will greet me. Making me smile.

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Think Positively by Michael Crayton Powell

Try and see the bright side…

To any of your trials and tribulations…

Thinking positively; or just have faith!

In other words, look for the best in every situation…

Refusing to give Up! Find a way around, Or through every obstacle…

For “if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, Nothing shall be impossible unto you” (Mat. 17:20}.

And “all things are possible to him that believeth” {Mark 9:23).

And “faith is the substance of things hoped for, The evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11.1 }.

For I’m a firm believer that people, all people, Become what they think!

May this poem inspire you! Comfort you…

And give you direction! Straighten on up babe…

Think positively!

Inspired by Norman Vincent Peale’s My Favorite Quotations.

And dedicated to Lee Portano.

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Lost and Found as One

by Robert E.L. Nesbitt, Jr.

If I’m lost in lonely rejection,

A vital link that articulates God and man Is lost, when there’s universal subjection To one piece missing in His mosaic plan.

I’m only a common piece, yet, I’m part of a great celebration Of creative energy release that gives to life its percolation.

When you leave me rejected, No part of the whole escapes what’s neglected.

The question is, “Will our soul’s vitality restore each other, or will all desiccate?”

Only when we flock within one holy fold Can there be showers of embers to identify and spark every soul.

Submitted Ellen M. Nesbitt.

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Shoreline of Faith

by Robert E.L. Nesbitt, Jr.

Life can grind at the shoreline

in the ebb and flow of sand,

The grit within our materiality

holds course by the tide’s command.

There’s ever flow in sequences of time, leaving ripples etched by hands in flight, Drawn by a Puppeteer’s lunar strings,

marking, then banishing, human plight.

A cleansing soul rides the frothy tides keeping dreams afloat when hope resides, Ever appearing, ever returning, till

faith quiets our inner churning.

Submitted Ellen M. Nesbitt.

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I Have Not Forgotten

by Julie Spencer

I think of you

Every moment of the day

Cause I have

Not forgotten.

I have not forgotten

The levity of your

Smile, nor the

Depth of love.

The safety I feel

In your arms.

The closeness

Of your touch.

I cannot forget the sweetness

Of this moment

Nor of any other moment

I have held you.

I will not

Ever forget

The treasure

Of knowing you.

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Watching Football

By Ginny Cope. ©

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Got My New Car

by M. T. Jamieson

Got my new car, a Roswell, by name.

With one big door and two seats it came.

The warranty is ten million miles,

Except for replacement heat-shield tiles.

Tuned the radio, took me all day.

Picks up stations from way far away.

Call the color aluminum green,

The oddest shade you have ever seen.

Don’t know the fuel, it’s surely not gassed.

The trunk is small, the engine room vast.

Tiny steer wheel, and stop or go stick, And all the windows are really thick.

Strange dials and numbers, can’t read the dash.

Acceleration causes whiplash.

Got my new car, a Roswell, by name,

Made in New Mexico is the claim.

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Dakota Wind

by M. T. Jamieson

The Dakota wind blows in my mind.

Hot, and dusty dry, leather boot kind.

Wide open spaces. Badlands, trails west, Coyotes, Lakota, vision quest.

Here, no locks to lock, or keys to turn, Travelling light, plenty sunshine to burn.

Eat when you’re hungry, rest when you’re tired.

No talking, or listening, required.

Dirt roads, don’t need much such passing lane.

Sunny, so bright, as to melt your brain.

Best, is good enough. No time for fears.

Hours are minutes, days become years.

Eye on horizon, feet on the ground.

Simple, a pleasure, easily found.

Surrounded, neither, by bought nor sold.

Journey realized, before too old.

I follow along, the wind just right,

Past miles, beyond time, almost, not quite.

The Dakota wind blows in my mind.

Soon, to return, daydream outlined.

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Love Unexpected

by Vicky Salazar

With all the turmoil in the world, love came softly into my life.

The sweetness of your presence in the room, my heart skips quickly to its tune.

The attraction came suddenly unexpected when I met you.

Now I love you in a secret place because to each other we don’t belong. Still loves, stirrings come so strong.

We’ve fought the sense of alarm, yet I still feel the sweetness of your charm.

Starlight

by Vicky Salazar

The golden leaves – red, orange, and yellow hues –

shelter the quaint old red barn and white picket fence below.

The trees sheltering arms grace the lake in their forest scene.

Its beauty tells of the age old story in the evening breeze, the dreams and aspirations of time.

When night comes, its softening glow highlights the stars in the ebony sky as starlight sprinkles the earth below.

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His Presence

by Vicky Salazar

The night is softly singing as dusk comes softly.

The rhythmic hum of insects and the mating call of pigeons are silver sweet despite the willow trees downward droop.

I swing back and forth in Grandma’s old wooden porch swing.

Soon, bright stars twinkle and dance in the ebony sky.

I have looked for him all day. Sought him in my heart.

Longed for him in my urgent need. Wondering if he will hear my cry “Lord I pray!”

Silence hangs in the air, but I slowly feel-a calming presence overtake me.

I know. I know now he has been with me along!

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Spring Cleaning, Country Style

By Eleanor Michael

“Scrap metal pays good now,” the head junkman said. “I’ve got a flat-bed truck with a winch that can load and haul it all.” He chuckled. “I’ll take more than one trip to the yard, and I’d better send an extra man.”

They took away: White Mercury station wagon filled with car parts – lug nuts to carburetors. A Dodge parked pickup truck with a cut-up windmill and a 318 engine block in the box. Woody wagon, cement mixer, metal clothes line poles the elm tree fell on. One non-running riding mower, three junked push-types, old wheelbarrow sans wheel, two rusty hog feeders, one water-well jack pump, and one wringer-type clothes washer. But not my nephew’s dune buggy.

A Conclusion: In time, one must part with things that have become old friends. Still it seems one cannot sell one’s dreams.

Even after word got around. And he had several serious offers.

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The Dance of the Trees

by Susan Marie Davniero

Suddenly I notice all the trees,

With rocking and rolling leaves.

Swinging in the windy breeze,

In harmony with nature’s jazz.

Rhythm of the birds and bees.

Tempo beat flowed with ease.

The dance of the trees.

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Recycling Because.

by Susan Marie Davniero

Recycling because.

By nature’s laws,

Energy conserves.

Saves trees reserves.

The Earth is preserved.

It’s the recycling cause.

Our Thanksgiving Heart

by Susan Marie Davniero

Seeking to find our Thanksgiving heart –

One Thanksgiving Day, we took our part Volunteering to join the serving line.

At the pantry for the needy to dine,

The table is set with a Thanksgiving spread.

Thankfully we pray to share our daily bread.

Platter full of slice turkey in starring role.

Co-starring cider, yams, gravy and rolls.

The door is always open to serve all.

Welcome everyone to come each fall.

One Thanksgiving Day from the start

We’re thankful that we found our heart

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Antelope Island, Utah

by Jim Barney

Rock and sand rising up in a sea of salt.

Desert shrubs and colorful wildflowers.

Fellow earth-creatures in abundance.

Meadowlarks on greasewood, singing their song.

Golden yellow eyebrows, throat, and breast with a wide black “V” on their chest.

Magpies on sagebrush. Black and white

with iridescence greens and blues.

One flying by with a stolen egg in its mouth.

Blackbirds on rabbit brush, strutting their stuff.

Ruby red shoulder patches on each wing with a yellow stripe beneath. Rites-of-Spring.

Clucking Chukars hidden from sight.

One standing look-out on a white rock

with coral red beak and black zebra stripes.

Cottontails, one holding still while I take its picture; Jackrabbits, one zigging and zagging, with no such luck.

Coyotes, so far I’ve seen seven this winter and spring.

Pronghorn, a single pair visible around the visitor center.

Deer, small groups everywhere, less visible this summer.

Bison, massive, when they get close stay in your car.

Reading the story of creation in Genesis ...

Contrary to my Rangeland Ecology class, animals Aren’t just meat-machines but fellow creations.

Rock and sand rising up in a sea of salt.

Desert shrubs and colorful wildflowers.

Fellow earth-creatures in abundance.

From Penwood Review (Fall 2015). Available as a reprint.

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My Angels

by Vicky Salazar

Yesterday, twelve little birds sat daintily on my patio fence, like pretty little girls in new outfits.

Little angels I said happy they had chosen me but then they all flew away quickly

I missed my little ones and to compensate for my loneliness, I spread around on my patio floor lots of bread crumbs

Sure enough, in the late evening, twelve little birds came again to eat. My patio fence had become their retreat!

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Beyond Summer

by Jane Hutto

After summer had bleached us ·out,

Friends and family looked askance.

On the bones of our relationship.

Over and over we had danced.

Listening to the Piper’s tune.

Skipping over notes fading

Past us as if played on a sluggish,

Almost run down turntable.

Rancor, distrust, angst,

And disappointment pelted us

Like acid rain, cold and chill,

Instead of pleasant refreshing

Showers. How had we done this,

Escaped and lost paradise?

A Coded Poem

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Writing a Poem

by David Fox

Whether you’re writing fact or fiction, Remember to use correct spelling and diction.

Try not to groan, nitpick, or gripe.

Think happy thoughts as you type.

Put it in an envelope and send it away.

Or if you’d rather, keep it in a notebook or journal for another day.

Whatever you do, try to have fun.

And don’t stop writing until you’re done.

Follow these steps and you

Can write a great poem which to view!

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Aged Old Guitar

by Barbara Briggs Luczkowiak

I miss Mom’s aged old guitar.

For it was always there,

When I was young and innocent,

Pure and light of hair.

I miss Mom’s aged old guitar

Soul which used to sing

Of lullabies and lessons.

Tributes to a KING.

I miss Mom’s aged old guitar.

Music in the night.

Gentle, soft and soothing sound

Chased away my fright.

I miss Mom’s aged old guitar

And the songs she used to sing

Gentle, soft and soothing sound

Love’s recurring ring

Help Us Help Them

O, Holy Child of Bethlehem

by Barbara Briggs Luczkowiak

Help us, children now grown tall.

So to treasure children yet quite small.

That together we will center our caring.

Broaden our sharing.

And create a world where love is

And children are free to become.

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Forth In Thy Name

by Bill Watkins

Forth in thy name, Lord I go, striving your Gifts to use so that others truly you know.

Though I may face trials and woe, as oft my path may that show.

As my witness to others grow.

With God’s love I fill them in: All can bask in heaven’s glow.

Power Beyond

by John W. (Bill) Williams

The world Is In a mess.

But I know someone who can fix it.

His name is God.

4 Untitled poems

by John C. Mastor

Longing for love, a flying dove, grace from above.

Black cat, my superstition in remission.

Rowboat, 99 bottles of beer capsized foam.

Blossoming love, holy spirit dove, Christian matrimony.

Happy anniversary!

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Symbol of America

Sheila B. Roark

He is the sentinel of his territory

guarding the mountain side

with a regal pride

that radiates a quiet strength.

His crown of white

glimmers in the sun

with a sheen like ocean pearls

so smooth and iridescent.

He is the symbol of America

as he flies both wild and free

circling the granite mountains

standing up for liberty.

The Eagle is the symbol

of America, our home

a bird of strength and majesty

who soars among the clouds.

May America stay free and strong

just like this regal bird,

that quietly guards the mountain side

with a royal, silent strength.

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Blue Bird Watching

by Susan Marie Davniero

Days of burst of sun light.

The focus seems just right.

Stage for blue birds to sing.

At this lovely season of spring.

There a blue bird is seen.

Among the leaves of green.

Perched on a tree finding room.

Where flower buds bloom.

Blue bird on a branch await.

For a graceful escape.

As the blue bird flies away.

To return another day.

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The Pursuit of Happiness

by Vernon Waring

The waitress doesn’t smile.

The cabbie doesn’t speak.

The salesman is all business.

(This hasn’t been his week).

The boss is rude and angry.

He drives us all to tears.

The barber flails his scissors.

And almost cut my ears.

This band of moaners and groaners.

Is no treat for a happiness glutton.

The only grin I’ve seen all week

Was on a “SMILE” button.

Silent Protest

by Vernon Waring

In church pews, I am quiet.

In libraries, I'm hushed.

At grave sites, I am silent.

In theaters, I am shushed.

In hospital halls, I whisper.

The epitome of poise,

But frankly what I'd welcome now

Is some pure unadulterated NOISE!

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Happy New Year!

Susan Marie Davniero

Happy New Year to all near and dear.

Oneness of humankind.

Champion of unity align. Together in unity.

Without bias disparity. Land of prosperity.

Peace and tranquility. Destiny in our hand.

Join together we stand. United for all - all for one.

We’ve only just begun!

Turn a calendar page. To the next stage.

Passing day grew. From old to new.

Night closes to morn. Awaken a new year born.

The old fades away. A new year today.

Shedding a tear. It's a New Year!

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Just Like Me and You

By David Fox

Some focus too much on race and nationality.

And ignore a personality.

There's no room in this world for cruelty and hatred.

Differences are to be celebrated.

So what If you are a different race?

A human's a human despite the color of a person's face --

Asian, Black, Hispanic, Indian, White, or Jew*

Inside everyone's the same, just like me and you.

(•Jewish people come in different races, I know, used for rhyme pattern).

Whispering Wind*

By David Fox

The wind whispers gentle things in my ear.

If you listen closely, you too might hear, Like angels flapping their wings.

So go on the journeys. Walk all around.

Just follow the wind's melodious sound.

*First published in Bell’s Letters Poet

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Caught

by Carrie Quick

When Wifey served dinner to Sam,

He said, "I am sick of this ham.

This resort close about

has a stream of fresh trout.

I'm a fisherman, really I am."

Sam held up his catch, with elation.

But supper time came with deflation.

That day at the sale his purchase was stale!

He was caught by a fish on vacation.

Midnight’s Baby

by Carrie Quick

His pride and joy was a yellow kitten.

He held it by the nape with care.

He wouldn't let other cats near.

Midnight's Baby is not bothered.

Those old toms are not looking for rubber cats.

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Predatory Priests

By Arthur C. Ford, Sr.

You keep your faith. And I'll keep watch.

For the next time, that you do it!!

You brought your cloaks from Dracula's store.

With guarantee of no disclosure!!

Your alms are cooked in minds entwist.

As you offer the Eucharist!!

Your leaders and their backers tum their backs.

Or your falter as you walk out.

Plot on sacred altars of the Lord!!

Haiku: Heaven Beautify

by Betty Streeter

Praised hands.

Chorus voice lifted higher

The clouds open up.

Heaven smiles.

Haiku: Friends

by Betty Streeter

Like mate.

Just met.

Believe in

The same things.

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I'm Going There

© Jae Judy A. Campbell

I’m going where the rainbows glow

And the clouds will never cry.

The sun will sit upon the Earth

To warm the heavens with its shine.

Where the sweetest scent of the roses

Will be carried with the breeze

To mingle with the garden fruits.

The butterflies and the bees,

The birds will sing together,

And the nights will all be day.

The stars will forever twinkle

And the flowers will never fade.

So this is where you will find me

When my time on Earth is done.

I'll go to be in this great heaven

With all of God's chosen ones.

An Orange Colored Day

By Sylvia Roberts

On an orange-colored October day,

Five delightful children ran out to play.

They raced through rivers of russet leaves And romped and tumbled under the trees.

They galloped after a golden breeze

And jumped into piles of tangerine leaves.

When they grew tired of this fine sport, They climbed up a tree and built a fort.

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My Morning Prayer

© Linda Amos

Oh, what a sight.

I made it through the night.

To greet this morning with delight.

Sunshine flows in my window bright.

All accomplished by God's might.

Waking rested - everything alright!

Able to get out of bed.

Morning prayers yet to be said.

Bible to be read.

Glad to be

Who God made me to be,

And to live but, another day.

I Can't Imagine

by Linda Amos

Even though almost half of a continent physically separates us, I can't imagine A time when I will stop lovin' you.

Love isn't turned-off by circumstances neither of us Can control.

Love isn't turned off like a faucet.

Instead it pours out of the human heart, More freely than sunshine or rain.

Inspired by Mr. Alton C. Mc Cloud.

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Confessions of a Friend

© Linda Amos

Some people I know personally thrive on angst.

They really don't want anyone they love to be happy.

It's as if their friends or family members are happy That it will rob them of something.

Could it be that it might rob them of being happy too?

Truth

© Linda Amos

Do not allow the detours in your life to deter you From reaching your true destination.

Ever the Optimist

© Linda Amos

In my heart, it is always Spring.

In spite of -2 degrees wind-chill!

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3 AUDIOBOOK COLLECTIONS

6 BOOK COLLECTIONS