Submitted by Walt Page: The Tennesee Poet
Softly falling rain
Trickles down your face
The bright glow of lightning
Lights a summer night
The soft moans of the wind through the leaves
The sky is shedding tears
Raindrops splashing all around you
The beauty of a summer storm
Surrounds you with renewal
If you look closely you can see
Tears in the rain
The storm passes quickly
The air is sweet
The memories of yesterday
Become the hopes of tomorrow
The sadness will pass
Like tears in the rain
About the Poet
I’m just a romantic old rock & roll drummer, US Air Force veteran, and open heart surgery survivor, living the country life in Tennessee and writing my thoughts on love, life, music, and whatever comes to mind. Owner of two horses and 8 rescue dogs
Painting: Morning on the Seine in the Rain – Claude Monet
Submitted by Alicia Grimshaw
(weathered and disregarded)
thinking themselves powerful.
Vulnerable to elements and eyes
yet never losing their dignity.
It is clarity of purpose that
leaves them self assured
while the landscape
is transformed around them.
They will forever remain
side by side, dependable
a community of stone.
Photo Credit: Bo Barlett – Inheritance
Submitted by Shantanu Baruah
The fall foliage scattered all around
and the evening gentle breeze
tossing and turning them with ease,
and the tall oak trees
sprinkling some more
of the crimson red leaves
to the wide-open prairies
The verdure’s musk,
the downy’s chirp,
the wilderness call,
the endless uproar,
and are in some absolute chaos,
yet there exists harmony,
deviant from the normal,
but still the best symphony
I have ever witnessed
in the blithe of such nature’s caper
About the Poet
Shantanu Baruah is a writer driven by passion, a healthcare leader by profession, and a poet with a creative bend of mind. His work has appeared in Indian Periodical, NUHA Foundation, and Little Rose Magazine.
Painting: Late Afternoon Prairie – Carlynne Hershberger
Submitted by Paul Bluestein
I set out on an ocean
of my own uncertainties.
Carried on the changing tides
I sailed just where I pleased.
I’ve felt the gentle southern breeze
and weathered northern storms.
My face got lined from searching
and my hands and heart got worn.
Packing all of my tomorrows
I left my home along the coast,
searching for the things
that I thought I wanted most.
My sails were filled with winds of change;
I sailed out by the stars;
kept my eyes on the horizon,
which always seemed so far.
It’s been a long, long journey
while I sat tending the flame.
It gave me time to wonder what’s been lost
and what’s been gained.
After years of watchful waiting,
trying to understand
It’s finally time to rest a while
here, in sight of land.
After all these years of wandering
weary to the bone,
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This isn’t a regular post. I’m just sharing my favourite poem.
So I found this poem on Tumblr back in high school and I fell in love with it. I even by-hearted it. But once college started, I didn’t even think about it. Recently I remembered it and I’ve been trying to remember it but I could only recall bits and pieces. Some words here and there and the vibe I felt.
I tried searching but this didn’t come up. On Monday, I finally remembered a unique line and when I googled it, I found the poem. I’m so glad. I’m sharing it today because I haven’t seen ANY talk about it. Honestly, does anyone even know it? Because I just love it so much. I’m guessing the poem on her Tumblr was deleted because I can’t find it there anymore.
Here’s the poem:
“We, the stumbling prophets
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Wow–you guys made this competition into a really big hit! By the final day, it had 3,800 post visits, 537 comments, a high ranking on Google, and Vita Brevis was on the front page of the Reader for the tags “Poem”, “Poetry”, “Haiku”, and “Poetry competition”. Sheesh!
I’m glad everyone had a good time, and I appreciate those of you who left such thoughtful responses on other submitters’ haiku. We ran into a bit of trouble at one point: we received so much attention that the automated comment moderator began rejecting comments, assuming that they were spam. But I got it all sorted out!
Also, I’d like to officially welcome all of the new faces here at Vita Brevis–I hope you enjoy the magazine! You’ll find an endless stream of talented poets here and a wonderfully supportive community.
It was hard choosing a winning piece. It always…
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For those of you who didn’t know, we hosted a poetry competition over the past few days that was a pretty big hit! Of the many entries, I’m happy to reveal our winner:
Submitted by tnkerr
“Inspired by watching my grandson playing in the garden this morning, I wrote this:”
Green hues of sunlight
filter through the trees and hide
a young boy dancing.
Check here for the notable mentions!
Painting credit: Ivan Kramskoy – Children in the Forest
Submitted by Ken Allan Dronsfield
An early dawn’s gentle fingers
probe the coasts morning fog.
Cascading water trickles down
From the mountains to the sea.
Wraith-like mists rise high now
glitters twinkle in a peeking sun.
Terns and gulls now soar above
gnarled long-dead trees dwell
along the surfline as driftwood.
Pines sway to building winds
Smells of vast coastal woods,
salt and blue ocean essence.
Her flawless panorama whispers
as Maines Acadia National Park.
Standing upon the cliffside, the
vigilant lighthouse finally rests.
About the Poet
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Title: My Plain Jane
Authors: Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton and Jodi Meadows
Genre: Historical Fiction, Retellings
Category: Young Adult
Status: Book 2 of The Lady Janies trilogy but can be read as a standalone.
You may think you know the story. After a miserable childhood, penniless orphan Jane Eyre embarks on a new life as a governess at Thornfield Hall. There, she meets one dark, brooding Mr. Rochester. Despite their significant age gap (!) and his uneven temper (!!), they fall in love—and, Reader, she marries him. (!!!)
Or does she?
Prepare for an adventure of Gothic proportions, in which all is not as it seems, a certain gentleman is hiding more than skeletons in his closets, and one orphan Jane Eyre, aspiring author Charlotte Brontë, and supernatural investigator Alexander Blackwood are about to be drawn together on the most epic ghost hunt this side of Wuthering Heights.
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