A Poem by Diane Webster

Rosebush Wings

Beneath rosebush
red, yellow petals
litter ground
like butterfly wings
in kaleidoscope
jumble
awaiting wind
to reincarnate
stained-glass
confetti whirlwind.



Diane Webster's goal is to capture a moment of nature with words so others can see what she has seen. Her work has appeared in "Muddy River Poetry Review," "The Rusty Nail," "River Poets Journal" and other literary magazines.

A Poem by Paul Tristram

The Black Cat Looked Skyward

 
The Black Cat looked skyward
in a thoughtful fashion,
let his gaze drop back
to the silver full moon
surfing gently off
the midnight rickety roof slates
and shadowing the turrets of chimneys
that spread out before him
in greying acres
over Old Smokey London Town.
Scratched twice, theatrically,
leapt off sharply, that way
towards the River and Embankment
in the fragile hope
of catching another glimpse
of her, again.

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.
 

Two Poems by Kim Peter Kovac

Swelter Skelter

 

like mother nature's oven
the sweltering humidity
roasts the mind into stupor

 

Equinox

 

at the cusp of sunrise
on the autumn equinox -
welcome, harvest moon!

 

 

 

Kim Peter Kovac lives in Alexandria, VA, and works nationally/internationally in theater for young audiences with an emphasis on new play development and networking.  His work is forthcoming or can be found in HowlRound, The Vine Leaves Literary Journal, Crack the Spine, Eunoia Review, Crunchable, Glint Literary Journal, The Metric, Mad March Hare, the Journal of Compressed Creative Arts, Modern Day Fairytales, Haiku Journal, High Coupe, Three Line Poems, and Write Local Play Global.  www.kimpeterkovac.tumblr.com

A Poem by Michael Lee Johnson

California Summer
 

Coastal warm breeze

off  Santa Monica, California

the sun turns salt

shaker upside down

and it rains white smog, humid mist.

No thunder, no lightening,

nothing else to do

except sashay

forward into liquid

and swim

into eternal days

like this.

 

 

Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era. Today he is a poet, freelance writer, photographer, and small business owner in Itasca, Illinois, who has been published in more than 750 small press magazines in twenty-five countries, he edits seven poetry sites.  Poetry books:  The Lost American: From Exile to Freedom (136 page book), several chapbooks, including From Which Place the Morning Rises and Challenge of Night and Day, and Chicago Poems.  He has over 65 poetry videos on YouTube.  Links to author website, book sales, and YouTube poetry videos:

Authors website http://poetryman.mysite.com/ 

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/promomanusa   

http://bookstore.iuniverse.com/Products/SKU-000058168/The-Lost-American.aspx

http://www.amazon.com/The-Lost-American-Exile-Freedom/dp/0595460917

https://www.youtube.com/user/poetrymanusa/videos

Three Poems by Byron Beynon

CAPE TRIBULATION

We witnessed the rare and tropical rainforest
  as it nears the waterline,
    the movement of an endangered creature
that stirs from hiding to drink.
  Creeks inhabited by crocodiles,
    the cable ferry
        slips cautiously over the face of the Daintree.
The poison peach tree
    startled into focus
      by the ghosts of fires.
Sands that gather driftwood,
  the discovered cape
    sirened by the unseen
      dangers of the reef.
The ruined wind, with the leaves
  creates a distant sound.


BLACKBIRD

Alert to the world he knows,
a voyager of shrubs and intimate trees
the unwavering rhythm of his map
he returns to contemplate
the pure and serene.
Without hopes and fears
he edges towards that otherness
where shadows stir,
familiar with the art of sunsets
his eyes observe life's gallery,
one of nature's philosophers
impatient for the light to break.


MAES Y CAPEL

They cut down the trees
at Maes Y Capel,
built roads, houses, put
pipes and cables
where roots once ran.
The birds no longer
return to their vacant heights,
evicted without appeal.
In the wooded night
when the air's breathing
softens the atmosphere
trapping sighs,
shadows lengthen
reaching up
at the sky
where they fly
without impediment
telling you that someday
they will be coming home.

Byron Beynon lives in Swansea, Wales. His work has appeared in several publications including Jellyfish Whispers, London Magazine, Poetry Ireland Review, Chicago Poetry Review and Poetry Wales.  A Pushcart Prize nominee.  His latest collection "The Echoing Coastline (Agenda Editions) has been submitted for the T.S. Eliot Prize.