mourn Archives - Spillwords

Home

mourn

The Graveyard

Julian Lee·May 8, 2019

The Graveyard written by: Julian Lee @julian_lee76 The still, quiet, peaceful air, Sounds of nature surround, We...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Spillwords·June 3, 2018

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep a poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye Do not stand at...

English Literary Greats Poetry

·1 min read

Restless Mourn

Alison Vail Fuller·February 13, 2017

Restless Mourn written by: Alison Vail Fuller @alisonVfuller a rain deluge usually comforts wraps me in its...

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 BUSHMAN

The Year of The Sickle

Solving The Sandman Series

Interviews

Spotlight On Writers – Francisco Bravo Cabrera

Interview Q&A With John Anthony Fingleton

Spotlight On Writers – Ingrid

Saturday Library Visit, 1977

The Maple Cottage

Tear Shards

Wedding Night

On A Tired Housewife

Somber

The Death Bed

I DIED IN VAIN

mourn

The Graveyard

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Restless Mourn

Solving The Sandman Series

Long After The Argument

The Year of The Sickle

Of Dreams and Delirium

A Liberating Dynamic

Ruxx’s Present

THE BUSHMAN

Pandemic

Tú, Belleza Del Mundo

Then It is That Love is Born…

Different Journeys

Soiled White