“Don’t Ship Me Off Far From Light” by Roz Levine

When I’m old and wrinkled with hair so white
Will you ship me off to live far from light
Will I lose my friends and all that I love
With getting old, is that the rub
Will joy never more come my way
With life a great bore each and every day
So daughters, please don’t imprison me
Let me live where I can breathe free
Where I can write words deep in the dark
Where I can enjoy life, listen to the lark
Don’t imprison me in an old person’s home
Let me have freedom for my mind to roam
Let me feel the earth under these feet
Let me chat with any new people I meet
When I’m old and wrinkled with hair so white
Daughters, don’t ship me off to live far from light

Roz Levine

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2011

“Another Dance” by L. K. Thayer


at some point the tantrum of the current will take you under,
with no mercy at it’s fingertips, at dawn or early dusk,
through murky waves of dark blue satin, under rocks and across wood adrift.
the current will capture and have it’s way with you
leave you powerless in it’s suffocating grip
a thief of the air you are gasping for

no one sails these waters
yet they yearn for a space to tie their knot
stingrays hover over bottom feeders
eager for a taste of the weary
the tides tease the sand
and sing it a lullaby

before the moon decides that it’s full
may I have another dance?

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010

“Before the Dawn” by Kathleen Matson

Above all else
above the trees
and the moon
and the stars
above the grass
and the streams
above the ocean
the sea
my dreams

that sail before me at night

like a silent movie
coming and going
the earth
and it’s gnawing
day into night
night into day
above the roots and wheat fields
and day to day pleasure
you are my guide
you alone whisper
like tiny birds in my ear
like the spray from the wave crashing at shore
I carry you with me
light in my heart
lantern of love
above all else
Artwork by JoAnne Hertz

“Such A Light” by L. K. Thayer

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I wake unto thee, my prism of color,
my rainbow of ecstasy, shimmers through
shattered glass. He thrusts forth and
commences to cut down my weeping willow,
whittle it into a piccolo and play me like a
song to be sung with a thousand refrains

So play me, I beg you sir, with the trumpets sounding
each time you cross the gates over my trampled soul
and carry me in your stronghold. He, whom I’ve
never laid eyes upon but can see through the mist
a mirage of springtime everlasting.

I long for the dawn of day or the depth of
glorious night, to sit across thy table sharing
a glance, lie next to thee on sheets of heaven
folding us into the palm of it’s caress.

How angelic to be blinded by such a light.

L. K. Thayer

All Rights Reserved

© 2010

“Yellow-Striped Violin” by Nicole Rigets

The heart rides the strings of the bow
against the silence
Cries escape from a pleasure never known
Now a torturous ecstasy
as passion is released
as passion escapes
in all directions of the soul
Slack-faced, mind driven asunder
in the sonance of a women freshly loved
A woman taken by the powerful
longing of a male presence
clinging to the life of the strings
Joy pulsating!
Veins open
Serenity resides along inner chambers
Nerves become pathways of grace
An awakening at a window
with linens so bright
they light the room.
All Rights Reserved
© 2010