On July 21st, the full moon night was cloudy. So the following evening found me sittingat the beach reading and waiting to see the moon rise. I read as much…
Editorial Reviews "A profound documentary work with the power to connect us with ourselves andeach other." - H. Hennenburg, author of TEN"Her poetry celebrates and consecrates the ordinary in innovative ways, with thepossibility…
WDYS # 246 Sadje says: Does this picture inspire you to write something? For the visually challenged reader, this image shows a white wolf standing in a foggyforest, with white…
Christmas is NOT about Santa and presents. It’s something far more important thanthat, and I hope that’s the feeling you take away from this story, and the longish poemtoo. Happy…
It gives me great pleasure to share my review of Joni Karen Caggiano's poetrybook, One Petal At A Time with you, dear readers, and even more pleasure tohave it published…
Dad jokes amuse me. The last one I heard from my neighbor is that he was on a seafood diet. It made me give a double take, befuddled—for an answer…
Depleted by The Hustle Culture Pedestals are all the crazein vogue for Barbies in transienceif mermaids can make it this farthey'll make of her a superstar--a pageant of praise and…
🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐🎐 made of fine crystalthey smolder with annoyancethe coquette windchimes* midsummer darknesseven moss dreams of the nightwhen the sun goes down* there's not enough willpower for cutting the grassrelish rewilding*©…
I have angels as friends... Hello, my lovelies. Yesterday was a great day for me and I celebrated at home withmy family. On the website, I reblogged a lovely reading…
What a party this has turned out to be. I assure you all, the tears are joy-filled. Andtoday, being a day I will not soon forget, I wish to invite…
What joy to know this amazing human. Do you know her? Author Judith Barrow. The first time I told you about her was in this post in 2022: https://selmamartin.com/book-review-for-the-heart-stone-by-judith-barrow/ Now…
Hopeful one mornwould bring them much closerShe, barely eightand he forty-threeDawn after dawnthey braved nightly slumberTasting ‘n writing,chewing words, hungry.The dim of the lamppaled with new morning lightSent them upstairsto…