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SILENT NOISE

Vern Fein·January 6, 2020

SILENT NOISE written by: Vern Fein Silent night, Holy Night. Holy, not silent, slam of the inn...

English Poetry

·1 min read

The Carpenter

Paula Puolakka·December 24, 2019

The Carpenter written by: Paula Puolakka Who is the most famous carpenter (and a carpenter’s son) in...

Christmas English Poetry

·1 min read

Ring Out, Wild Bells

Spillwords·December 22, 2019

Ring Out, Wild Bells a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson Ring out, wild bells, to the wild...

English Literary Greats Poetry

·1 min read

That Which Is Gold

Shelly Wilson·July 12, 2019

That Which Is Gold written by: Shelly Wilson @ShellyWilsonDQK Gold is found in many gems That often...

English Poetry

·1 min read

John Anthony Fingleton: Was born in Cork City, in the Republic of Ireland. Now living in Paraguay. Poems published in journals and anthologies in Ireland, UK, USA, India and France as well as three produced plays. Poems read on Irish and American radio as well in Spanish on South American broadcasts. Has poems published in Spillwords, Alien Bhudda, The Red Door, Piker Press, Super Poetry Highway, The Writers Magazine, Ariel Chart, and numerous national and international journals, blogs, reviews, and anthologies. Published collections 'Poems from the Shadowlands' was published in 2017, 'Words That Found Me' 2019, 'Poems From The Banks' 2020, 'Poems from a Restricted Place' April 2020, 'Secret Fjords' May 2020 and 'A Gathering Of Words' June 2020. All which are available on Amazon.

A Song for Christmas by Steve Carr

I was sixteen. Ma’s upright piano stood against the wall in the dining room where it had been since Ma and Pa were married. It was Grandma’s piano, but she gave it to my Ma as a wedding present. It was made of mahogany and Ma polished it almost every day. I was sitting at it just plucking randomly on the black keys when Ma placed a bright red runner across the top of the piano and, a few minutes later, placed the crèche on the runner. She arranged the figures of Mary and Joseph around the baby Jesus lying in a manger.
“You’re late puttin’ that out this year, Ma,” I said.
“Each year there are more and more boxes of Christmas decorations to sort through,” she said.
I strummed several keys with an unmelodic result and heaved a loud sigh.
“Have you decided yet which song you’re going to do for the Christmas service?” she asked ...

Features

The Year of The Sickle

Solving The Sandman Series

Long After The Argument

Interviews

Spotlight On Writers – Francisco Bravo Cabrera

Interview Q&A With John Anthony Fingleton

Spotlight On Writers – Ingrid

The Year of The Sickle

Harbinger of Winter

Nopales

The Dream of The Only One

Christmas Magic

Christmas Song

Your Christmas Gift

O This Day Inside an Autumn-Xmas Mind?

Christ

SILENT NOISE

The Carpenter

Ring Out, Wild Bells

That Which Is Gold

Star-Gaze

Long After The Argument

Solving The Sandman Series

Interview Q&A With John Anthony Fingleton

On Father Turning Eighty in November

A Liberating Dynamic

Halcyon Hums

Black Dog Day

Poetry Is What I Do When I Am Slippery

The Year of The Sickle

You’re Too Much

Harbinger of Winter