Ride, Citizens, Ride (News Silent about 2 Million Bikers converging on DC)

Our news media decide what stories they will follow, and often I wonder why they promote some things, like stories of violence and death, but positive things or stories that may be right wing or not politically correct seem to be strained like a gnat, and have enquiring minds surfing the internet to find what is actually happening in America.  Why do news reporters ignore such a large convergence on DC.  Riders are coming in peace but numbers.


18 Publishers Who Accept Unsolicited Manuscripts


Never Give Up by Joan Y. Edwards

“50 Publishers Who Accept Unsolicited Manuscripts” by Joan Y. Edwards

Updated March 1, 2018.

Your revised and edited manuscripts are saying:

“Send me to a publisher.  Send me. Send me. I’m ready!”

It’s okay if in the past you didn’t submit your work. Forget the past. Focus on right now. Check the guidelines for the publisher you’ve chosen. Look at the books they published. Do you like the illustrations on the covers? Are the books appealing to you?

If you’re like me, one of your stories says, “Send me to a publisher. Send me. Send me. I’m ready!” It’s waited anxiously for submission for days, months, or years. Now is the time to send your manuscript to a publisher. How can you turn down your sweet manuscript?

What? You’ve decided to do it now. Hurray!

It’s important to follow the very latest guidelines on the publisher’s website. Does this…

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Philosophy of Life

“If you think you can, or you think you can’t, you are probably right.” HENRY FORD




The tides are synchronized with your moods
Precise time tables are written for decades hence
Vast oceans acquiesce to your silent command
When hurricane throws her gauntlet down
You still orchestrate from your lofty abode
Lunar light is not constant but your strength
Lies not in your reflection but in your perfection

Trust at Dusk

Katie in the air

Trust is tangible

Taste it in the air

Entire family near

She can fly high

His arms her wings

Onion Tears


Onion tears I heard mother say

As she used her apron to wipe them away

But she was in the process of kneading bread

I knew those tears were genuine instead

She never wanted us to see her cry

Alas, her tender heart would often sigh

Tears cleanse the soul of deepest pain

Clear the path for smile to follow the rain








I am Autumn (Harrisham)

I am Autumn  (Harrisham)

Pecking in mass of fallen leaves

Geese eat berries the cedars shed

Eagles floating on evening breeze

Share the gray skies overhead

Dusk descends as lone deer flees

Kiss of sun on horizon turns red

Night After Night (Sevenling poem)

Whispers of darkness
Shards of light
Penetrate night’s depth

Blackness that permeates
Night after long night
Only slivers of light here

Clinical depression haunts

Hold That Word

IrisD , my poem for Poetic Asides April 4 prompt

Sliding away from my thoughts
So close I almost catch it with my tongue
Yet blurring as I try to savor it
What is that nombre that I want
I toss out a random word, and yet
I long to capture the perfect one
You walk away and then, voila
The word whispers through my lips


January 2019
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