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Let it snow

Let the snow dance upon my face

Let the snow lay on the ground like lace

Let it snow,

Let me feel the ice beneath my toes

Let the snow dance upon my nose

Let it snow,

Let me know

When the children can take out their sleighs

When snow drifts are here to stay

Let it snow,

Let the rain go

I want icicles to appear

I want the snow to be here

Let it snow,

I need to know

The ground is white

Glistening and bright

Let it snow,

Let the earth light up tonight

with snow so bright

Let it snow,

I want to see snowflakes

From my window

Let it snow

Gillian Sims



Honor This Day
Dedicated to the life of Nelson Mandela (1918 – 2013)

When I was a child
I once heard a word
I wondered aloud
For it seemed quite weird
A news report suggested
A man had been arrested
Far too young to know
My life spent running in the fields
Playing baseball, freely walking
Along open avenues
Without fear
A simple reality
That contained
Certain love
Quiet guidance
Granted peace
Far away in a distant world
Untouched by my eyes
My age of living souls
Were being gunned down
Randomly with purpose
A driving brutality
Seemed normal …
To live freely
Without bullets or maim
That’s when I read a magazine
Newsweek recognizes
Ten years later
The Sharpeville massacre
Later that year Kent State
A couple of years earlier
A dream shatters … MLK Jr
And then the story about
Emmett Till I discovered
The slaughter of a young boy
One brutal moment after another
In 1975, I am a teenager
The war is over
We are protesting nukes
Low-impact en masse hostility
Seemed less effective
Than flowers
Hanging from rifle barrels.
I’m a sophomore now
Skipping school
Looking for a cause
A world reaching well past me
Existed on a principle of freedom
“Free Mandela”
Soweto uprising
End the strong arm
Of Apartheid
There it was
In rainbow colors
I could no longer
Simply run through the fields
Without realizing pain
While across the world
The news read gloomily
Of a distant opinion
His protest screamed agony
We must be educated!
In memoriam
I am the privileged one
I have lived to watch a man
Know freedom beyond words.

Dedicated to the life of Nelson Mandela (1918 – 2013)

Thom Amundsen

We Weave Words – Promote Yourself


We weave words into lines
To give form to the sublimity
And obscurity of our minds,
Proclaim individuality.
We weave words into rhythms
And dance to their living melody
To give life to our souls’ hymns,
To give meaning to our memories.
We weave words into poems
And poems into blankets
To protect our hearts from tireless beatings
To protect our hearts from callous beings.
andrea anne santos
______Link is here:

‘Artists Dilemma’ – Promote Yourself

Hi, I would love to promote myself on your site. My name is Clyde Aidoo, originally from Chicago, IL and now residing in Las Vegas, NV. I have three poetry books out, all under the Art of Mind series umbrella: Art of Mind I, II, and III. If you’re open to it, and I have the option, I’d love to continue to advertise poems on your page, perhaps 1-2 poems every week? Most of which from my series, but I’d also love to add never-released poems as well.


*Artist’s Dilemma*

This “common artist” is about to ascend
Ten Stories High —

Don’t look now.

Now I’ve reached a place where I’m afraid to fall —

Don’t look down.

My art has taken control,
It uplifts me high with an exhilarating view —
But I am afraid that if I choose to let go —
That I’ll end up becoming
Just like you.

Do I continue to rise
Come back down to earth?

Should I remain alone with only art as my companion?
Or do I release and return to join the rest of you?
I am so high
on Fumes.
Still —
This remains a terrifying view.

Painted by Chet Davis

artxxxxxxxWordpress Website:

Music Is – Promote Yourself





Music is the voice of the soul–
The melody of pain and pleasure
Intertwined within the bonds of memory,
Of denial, of joy and sadness.
Music is the face of life–
The highs and lows of the notes,
The contours–scars and scratches,
Every day’s soothing touches.
Music is the mirror of my being–
The reflection of the beauty and insanity that I take
The illusion of smiles and laughter I give,
Reality and illusion, at the same place and time.
Music is the flavor of the seasons–
Seasons of madness, of purity, of greatness
Seasons of failure, of frustration and success
The aroma and taste of the sweet, savory life.
Music is the voice when you can’t speak
The strength when you are weak
The tears when you have none to shed
The blood when you think you’re dead.

andrea anne santos

This poem can also be seen on my page:
Thanks a lot (again) and God bless 🙂


GIVING THANKS – Promote Yourself


So many things to be grateful for,
where does a person start?
By giving thanks for air we breathe
and the steady beat of our heart.

For cloud bursts filled with welcome rain,
for the sun’s light every day,
for millions of stars shining at night,
far off in our Milky Way.

Gratitude for family and friends
with their unique connections,
each one offering love and support,
sharing their soul reflections.

Family pets, shepherd’s flocks,
herds of cattle on ranches,
wheat fields, corn fields, orchards
bearing fruit on all their branches.

Fish in the seas, birds in the air,
waterfalls, mountains and streams,
our never-ending abilities
to pursue our wildest dreams.

Our homes, whether grand or humble,
keeping us safe and warm.
Our knowledge, ever increasing,
on how to weather each storm.

There’s no end of things to be grateful for
all the time, not just Thanksgiving Day.
With an attitude of gratitude,
we can handle what comes our way.

Jean Kay

PLASTICITY – Promote Yourself


Listening without a word spoken,
Loving without a promise broken,
Laughing when anger provoked;
Releasing strident memories evoked.

Expecting only what you would give,
Eliciting only what you would forgive,
Erasing what past wrongs befell;
Allowing love to crack your hardened shell.

Molding a future from lessons once tossed,
Melding a life renewed with one uncrossed,
Making dreams awaken by accepting tenderness;
Keeping grounded by embracing nature’s sacredness.

Finding faith inside yourself,
Freeing ties that have worn upon your shelf,
Fixing challenges one obstacle at a time,
Being comfortable with the climb.

Cuddling with your loving friend,
Caressing her mind with stories on end,
Collecting happiness as we meet,
To bring a union of souls upon its feet.

(Dedicated to the One I Love)

The New Town Square – Promote Yourself

              250px-Accra_montage                      I sought information

And the world’s intention

I sought the latest news

Our nation’s direction and people’s views


My birthday approached

One day prior and the matter was never broached

The day arrived, and neither a text nor a call

Instead a flood of generic messages on my Facebook wall


I bought my new bracelet

Already a friend abroad had gotten wind of it

Inquired why I’d buy such a hideous ornament

Her voice dripping with heavy judgement


Brokenhearted lady shared her plight on her Twitter feed

Seeking solace, consolation at 4G speed?

She got insults and a skim of condolences

Guess we all see life through different lenses


Showing the cash, flaunting the new missus

He also posted to keep up appearances

Albeit on the inside he withered slowly

No substance and thinking of himself lowly


A lovely day but I hear ranting

Violent opinions and pointless raving

Each wanting his voice to be heard

To scribe his viewpoint, no matter how absurd


Welcome to the marketplace of the digital age

Where we all commune on the virtual page

Chatting heartily and laying our souls bare

Hate it or love it, it’s the new town square

Setor Dzisenu

                                                                                         Accra, Ghana

I’m Still Chasing Ghosts – Promote Yourself


I’m still chasing ghosts –
Perhaps in fear.
Perhaps in love.
Perhaps in loathing.
I’m still searching,
Though I don’t know what I’ve lost,
Or what I yearn to find –
Though I’ve long been petrified by the glare of phantoms.

I’d rather be guided by these demons
Than wander alone.
I’d rather be preyed upon by illusions
Than strive for the nihilism of truth.
I’d rather succumb to this affliction
Than hope for the frailty of a cure.

I’d rather burn
Than wade into these tides,
Only to be assailed
And cast back to the shore.

I am incarcerated in twilight,
And bound in flame.

Luke Dukinfield

This Gathering









I am grateful
To recall the memories
Children running through rooms
A gathering of family
Hopping over the ankles
Brushing shoulders
Quick smiles as we flit by each
Relative that stood in our way
I grew up believing the aroma
Baking, basting, tasting
Always a natural consequence
Of gathering loved ones
While the care in the kitchen
Symbolic of love and festivity
Would offer purpose to the
Acceptable gluttony of spirits
If I were to name you
I’d feel compelled to recall
Everyone that touched me
When gathering I had no clue
How your love would remain
Close to my heart today
On this morning when I ready
My family to celebrate together
I believe then I am wondering
How to include everyone
My memories are vivid
Always a gathering with effort
To recognize each individual
Belonging together in heart and soul
Without exclusion on this day
An occasional stranger appeared … love
When I celebrate memory
I feel certain emptiness stir
Becomes an anxiety I fear
A gathering of lonely and heartsick
Souls wishing for a warm fire
A soft blanket to shelter exposure
I will pray for them in my own way
That peace in God’s eyes may occur
Glance outside and the sunlight’s beauty
Lights a blessed gathering of souls today

Thom Amundsen

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