My Friend
by Leona Coulter
My friend
By Leona Coulter
I pawed the ground,
Snorting as I did so.
He gently touched my nose,
Speaking very softly.
I loved the sound of his voice
So I nudged him for more.
He complied, still rubbing my nose.
He crept closer, without me realizing it
And soon he had a halter on me.
I threw my head back and whinnied
But he only smiled and spoke quietly
As he petted my side.
Before I knew it, he put something on my back.
But that soothing voice kept me quiet.
He fed me an apple for being good
And I nudged him for more.
He spoke some more, and he walked away.
I followed him, wanting more of that soothing sound.
He looked behind and saw me there
Smiling and nodding as I trotted up to him.
I nudged him for more.
He caressed my nose, nice and gentle
Before I knew it he was on my back.
I bucked good and hard
But still he hung on tightly.
I knew he wouldn’t hurt me
So I walked to make him happy.
He talked to me in that soothing voice
And soon he was on the ground.
We became friends he and I
The man with the quiet voice.
While I nudged him for more,
He smiled and rubbed my side.
Feelings
by Leona Coulter
Hands touching, sensing, feeling
Hands touching the ceiling.
Hands reaching to the sky
Hands and more hands, my oh my.
Bodies hugging, caressing, soothing
Bodies needing the smoothing.
Bodies old and new
Bodies and more bodies, through and through.
Love lingers, hungers, binds
Love sends shivers down our spines.
Love forever and ever
Love and more love, the end of never.
Friendship lingers, loves, smiles
Friendship across the miles
Friendship forever more
Friendship and more friendship on every shore.
Leona Coulter
tlcoulter@mercuryspeed.com
Leona Coulter: I live in British Columbia, Canada and am a stay at home mom with 2 girls, 14 and 10. This is my first time in writing anything this public and I'm finding it a nerve wracking experience. I started out writing fan fiction for fun, and decided I wanted to "spread my wings" I write poetry and stories and would like to one day publish more of my work. Contact Leona.
OCTOBER GLORY
By Margaret Ellis
I notice her especially now;
she’s grown from sapling to full beauty.
Maybe the slant of light lures the loveliness
from the sun nearing winter’s solstice, but
this morning her clothes glow.
Overnight it seems she changed dresses
from drab green to golden lace
as if Midas touched her.
A gold leaf finds my hand, another, my shoulder,
as leaves begin to weave a thick carpet.
I find the wealth--a richness to hear and see--
before her whispers settle into silence,
her bounty considered fool’s gold.
(previously published in my book
Close Company, May 2003
Map of Austin Poetry, Sept 2003)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
California native, Margaret Ellis Hill lives
in a rural area of Northern CA. Her work has been
featured in many online e-zines; anthologies, journals
and has won a number of awards. Her first book of
Suzannah’s Song
By Paul Greulich
As this is really happening,
I must be brief.
A winter land dispute
has sealed us in a curious place-
where cannon come to church
and a proud boy prepares his sacrifice
A mere woman,
I find I do not understand war
Your strategies ring hollow in my breast.
Your pride,
against lancers in black rows?
And David….
David, what shall we do?
Will your legend save us,
or is this merely the place you have chosen
from which to ascend to fiction?
Hidden in the chapel,
with only my imagination to gut me-
Quite the frightened wife
but I still know enough to tell
your guns are shooting inwards now
With the thud of the twelve-pounder
history’s muscles contract around my heart
I feel the rift open,
permanent.
I see our children’s children-
cavepeople
living in the gaping wound
assuring me in their lonely tongue
that our sacred places
will forever be sites of great loss.
Paul Greulich. I recently graduated from Long
Island University at Southampton College and my primary interest is in writing short fiction and poetry. The word count of this piece is 162 words. Contact Paul.
