Poem | |
An ember sparked will softly glow,
and fed by fuel, will grow and grow.
I once was cinder, sparked by you,
first timid. . . till the flames then grew.
And so our start was touch of dawn,
with amber hue, for I was drawn
to eyes so welcoming and warm
I never guessed you’d do me harm.
Like morning glory, love in June
the rapture of mid-afternoon,
romance of which the ancients wrote,
our passion had no antidote.
And with the dusk, though scarlet tinged,
our love began to come unhinged,
for clouds arrived, which filled your eyes,
extinguishing bright twilight skies.
With cold of night came shadows’ pall,
and I could not tear down your wall.
By midnight’s hour, the fire was dead.
Mere ashes smoldered in its stead.
You left, and should you reappear,
I’ve vowed to shun you. Now I fear
the very thing for which I yearn -
one touch. . . and then again - to burn.
For John Heck's contest: Love - It Heals & It Hurts
More great poems below...
Poem | |
Each day Annie Lesley opened a can
Her eighty-six-year-old hands trembling
As she sat with her cat and ate pet food
What is wrong with this elder’s rendering?
Pride swallowed to remain independent
Large, sunken eyes peered from her weathered face
Her late spouse a decorated hero
Annie’s lifestyle a national disgrace
More enlightened cultures all over the world
Have revered their seniors throughout history
Asians and Native Americans
Are just two who honor their ancestry
Polynesians, other Pacific tribes
Respect the wisdom that comes with age
Seniors are welcome in family homes
But here in the states they’re placed in a cage
Bone-thin Annie Lesley chose to be free
Amazing neighbors with her endurance
When social services tried to intervene
She fought with remarkable resilience
Old photos on walls told many great tales
But only purring Tibby was listening
Each morning she rose to care for her cat
Until the day that Tibby went missing
In tears she claimed he must have been poisoned
Though in cat years he was older than she
Each day she sat by the window, staring
Awaiting the homecoming of Tibby
She’d been abandoned by society
Lost in the world’s most “progressive” nation
For sacrificing her spouse in World War II
Annie received little compensation
This widowed war bride never had children
Her mate had met his fate in Normandy
Posthumous awards she dusted each day
Annie’s life was defined by loyalty
To a man and a cat who never came home
And the vigil she kept all alone
Ended quietly one warm summer night
When an angel came to take Annie home
With a can of cat food in hand when found
Annie had nothing else to eat in her house
This is the way a veteran’s wife died
And tear stains had blemished her faded blouse
Although seniors’ wisdom is heeded
In societies that grow from history
Too many like Annie lead lonely lives
Wisdom untapped, they die in poverty
Poem | |
Part I: Ice
He shines like silver midnight moon -
cool marble statue, this tycoon.
And though he makes the ladies swoon,
of ice he’s hewn.; of ice he’s hewn.
He’s poker-faced and can deceive
competitors and can achieve
most anything, but can’t conceive
of Genevieve, of Genevieve.
Like Neptune, distant from the sun -
relationships he chose to shun.
He thought the search for love was done.
He has no one; he has no one.
Now love’s allure has come his way.
What will he do? What will he say?
Will he grab hold, beg love to stay,
or let it stray? Or let it stray?
Part II: Fire
This dragoness disguised in lace -
passion’s flower with angel’s face,
precisely picks the time and place
each dream to chase, each dream to chase.
Like ink the color red, she stains
the hearts of those whose love she drains,
and then she leaves when naught remains
No lust she feigns; no lust she feigns.
And now there’s one who would suffice.
For him alone, she’d sacrifice
her everything, so he of ice
she must entice, she must entice.
So Genevieve now strikes the flame.
Will man of ice his love proclaim?
Beneath her fire and his cold frame,
they’re both the same. They’re both the same.
By Andrea Dietrich
For Carol Brown's FIRE And ICE Poetry Contest
and now for PD's Best Love poem 3 Poetry Contest
Poem | |
When the crimson rose has faded
And our day at last is done;
In the forest dark and shaded
Blows the tempest, dims the sun.
When the night holds us together
Shall forgiveness mend the past
Will despair bring sunny weather
And heal our hearts at last?
If we hide within the shadows
Will you stay here close to me;
Will we walk forgotten meadows
Or sail a foreign sea?
In vain the hour must reap
What we gathered in the sun;
And love's harvest now will weep
For the battle never won.
Within the world's disgrace
In the hour of Nevermore;
Will there be another race
To a far-off fabled shore?
We promised love tomorrow
We preen with pride today
Now pride and love will borrow
The tears of yesterday.
Our pride we now confess it
Is a sin that couldn't last;
Our passion if we kiss it
Is like a dream now passed.
While fragrance scents the garden
And the misty moon rides high;
The wind whispers a pardon
When love goes passing by.
Poem | |
I thought I was a poet who had a pen of gold
With clear access to writing that was mature and bold.
I thought I could go roaming beside the foaming sea
And watch the seagulls gliding to give a show for free.
I thought I was a poet who walked along the beach
In awe I stood and wondered, my hand stretched out to reach
The silver thread dividing the water from the sky
And traced Selena’s features as slowly she went by.
I thought I was a poet who knew what joy could be
On hearing water roaring cascading down with glee.
I looked for inspiration, experienced utmost thrill
When climbing down the valley or up the verdant hill.
I thought I was a poet in charge of heat and cold
But lost my true emotions when I was duped and told
I had to reach perfection to please my heart and mind
By means of imitation. My soul I left behind.
I thought I was a poet who had a pen of gold
But now all of a sudden I’m weary, frail and old.
I thought I was a poet. My pen is of no use.
With teary eyes I whisper to my dejected muse.
Author: Paul Callus
Contest: Million Dollar Poem
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placed 1st ~ 13th June 2015
Chosen Poem of the day ~ 8th May 2015
More great poems below...
Poem | |
I want to touch your life
and leave a mark ...
... a deep impression ...
So you will think of me
and of my smile ...
... my sweet expression ...
I long to touch your life
and leave a sign ...
... a warm inscription ...
So you will care for me
and keep in mind ...
... a clear description ...
I need to touch your life
and leave a joy ..,.
... an inspiration ...
So you will love me soon
in reality ...
... not imagination ...
*For S.K.A.T.'s give it to me straight contest ...
Poem | |
"A Near-Death Experience of A Sweetheart"
Floating through a corridor between two different Worlds
among white fluffy clouds and shimmering stars awhile wind unfurls
racing into darkness: destination to death's door
living in a heavenly kingdom ... forevermore ...
Traveling through deep tunnel as cold fingers touch
walls of blackened essence creating thoughts to clutch
quickly toward a bright white light of peace
my soul and spirit being experienced soft release ...
Rushing to a Paradise, landing on streets of gold
seeing the Face of God so clearly to behold
longing to embrace my dear departed family
loved ones who had gone before to their final destiny ...
Their captivating smiles excited my soul
sharing love once more as was in their earthly roll
but a huge white Angel stood between my track
he spoke mentally "child of God you must go back.
And yet, I was not sad but happy to have seen
my precious treasured relatives cuddled by Supreme Being
why? I questioned must I return to Planet Earth?
Angel responed not your time to stay
your purpose unfulfilled for God to cherish every day ...
Suddenly transported through the tunnel smelling flowers
a jorney taking minutes but feeling like hours
and soon the sights and sounds ignited quiet hospital room
while my loved ones endured possibility of doom ...
My husband was squeezing my hand so tight I felt his love
as my children sobbed so loud praying to above
my eyes opened wide as I inhaled a breath
escaping to my body while I avoided Death ...
This near-death experience was an inspiration
for another realm exists in utter fascination
for now the message lives to enjoy both love and life
have no fear for death is harmless and erases strife ...
Hover close to God and always give Him thankxxx
through trials and tribulations He relieves all angst
Treasure every moment and anticipate the end
a beutiful place is waiting reuniting family and friends ...
Kisses and hugs replaced those solitary tears
knowing what lies ahead extinguishes all fears
please celebrate the gift of life in grateful attitude
Eternity is awesome with unending interlude ...
Poem | |
Hidden beauty resides not in the grace like charms
Of coy smiles
Painted across a gentle Madonnas face.
Nor is she vested within the chastened vows
Of saintly knights; encased Great-Helm:
Thus maketh the pale maidens meek pulse
To so fervently race!
She neither dwells in fair Michelangelos alabaster statues,
Or famed masterpieces hung upon hushed galleries
Never does she proudly boast from-on-high
In lofty ivory towers,
Or brazenly shout across yawning grandiose marble halls!
For she will not be found in royal palaces,
Or sprawling estates of greatly lauded piles;
She is not to be found in ancient cathedrals -
Or exalted from their most sacred holy aisles!
She will not be found in hidden empires in brave new worlds
Frontiered by far flung foam washed shores;
Nor found prowling echoing dusty bank vaults -
If all the worlds bankers
Were to throw open all of their bolted cold steel doors!
For hidden beauty knows all the crafts and wisdoms
Of learned mens most subtle and tricky arts:
And cares not a jot, or gives a damn,
For all the poets and their foolish sentimental hearts!
Perhaps she shyly glowers inside a sun struck morn -
Her stealing lips simmering upon the dew kissed dawn;
Perhaps she wantonly flirts alongside a babbling brook -
Where sweet Virgil, Her, for a Muse mistook;
Perhaps she frequents the flowery paths of verdant pasture -
With all their lush, vibrant, unassuming rapture;
Perhaps you may find her in the dappled shades -
In and amongst the streaming glades;
Perhaps she traipses idly through heavens lights -
Of beached harvest moons and star tilted nights.
Perhaps she briefly flickers across sizzling lightening strikes -
Accompanying thunderous cannonades of symphonic rolling might;
Perhaps she sometimes ignites the drifting tallgrass plains -
Glistening within fleeting rainbows blazing an arc over sparkling rains;
Perhaps she is in the gulf filled roar of stormy headlands -
Whose pounding seas smash and grind the sheering cliffs to sands;
Perhaps she burns across diamond ice in glacial mountains high -
Where frozen snows reach sharply upwards to rip open the azured sky;
Perhaps she slumbers in impenetrable greening forests deep -
Lain down with the hunted grey wolf...safe at last in contented sleep!
I am the glint rippling upon the gleam -
The tumbling cryptic flashing only partly seen;
I am the eternal flame that crackles in the grate -
The enigmatic indecipherable most profound innate;
I am the paradox within the intrigue -
That does so contrive but does not deceive;
I am the quantum within the curled up string -
The grain of truth from which all half-truths spring.
I am all these indefinable moments and much, much more...
which all of your befuddled senses are resigned to grapple with -
Whereupon to set such store!
Content yourself and make not the mistake
To assuredly set me aside to thus debate.
For i am beyond the conjectures of a mere mortal mind,
As by accidental-consequential reaction...i cannot be denied!
For "Hidden Beauty".....
Once freed from Pandoras box upon this spinning coil:
To fire and play upon your enchanted thoughts - and forever foil!!
Poem | |
blue velvet sky caresses
pink cotton candy clouds
beneath a gold umbrella
red heartbeats breathing loud.
a yellow Sun kisses skin
of silky bronze glowation
footprints carve love in brown sand
while white waves crest formation.
green trees hide secret embrace
while purple passion prowls
viewing an orange sunset
rose petals play on towels.
silvery stars illuminate beach
as amber heavens sleep
magenta magic smiles so sweet
chase black and grey to ocean's deep.
...crayola rainbow lovers' leap ...
*Written by: Linda-Marie The "Sweetheart" of P.S.
*For Tracie's Paint The World Contest ...
Poem | |
An ocean tumbles through dreams of you. In depths unknown,
I float above. Oh, how I long to dive beneath your surface,
yet I am timid in matters of love. If brave, I’d have shown
you the whole of my gushing heart, no less than tides of bliss.
Seeking depths unknown, I long to dive beneath your surface.
Searching your eyes, I want for treasures lost on the ocean’s floor.
The sun, like a gold coin, drops, splashing this face of regret. I blush
in secret thoughts of you and turn away from the endless shore.
A swoop from seagulls catches the light of your smile and breaks the hush
of late sky. Turning away from the endless shore of regret, I blush.
My lonely shore may flood, a wish to bathe in the caress of you
granted. I shall break from fear, to brave a rolling river between us.
Down current, I’ll swim until I reach your ocean of sparkling blues.
I would drown in the waves of your uncharted waters. Glorious
would be death in the caress of you, your uncharted waters…glorious.
for Craig Cornish's Manassian Quintain Contest,
Poem | |
Over the top lads, for old Blighty! Hold the colours high!
Say a little prayer for me, for this summer day we die.
My brothers from the ripened field and blackened mill, shop floor,
Your brother in a killing field to fight a rich man’s war.
In bloodied mud and shattered wood, fight legions of the brave,
Unwitting youth, you’ll do your duty until you’re in the grave.
A sergeant greets a fresh-faced boy, “welcome to the slaughter!”
Here you die from three diseases, bullet, gas or mortar.
In arms we fight together and in leaden hails we pass,
We die amongst the filth and stench that once was verdant grass.
“In the morning we will remember them” we hear the leaders call,
Those fickle words of history, will not remember us all.
Poem | |
"Listen! to the Heart"
every heart strums strings of symphony
an open book exploring dreams and fantasies
the lovebeat touches emotions and feelings serene
as candy-filled caramel cremes.
every heart twirls in tune to love and romance
a paradox portrait of lovers in a trance
echoing laughter in harmonious haven
or a fickle falsetto black as a raven.
every heart is a treasure chest of precious jewels
as tenderness comforts those heartaches so cruel
the heart always gives; suddenly takes away
so listen to the heart; hear the words it must say.
Poem | |
The wind billows out from the seat of his britches
With determined eyes, skinned knuckles and knees
He climbs up the rails nailed from old cedar pieces
To the uppermost yoke of the old pecan tree
He is Captain on board, in pretend salty breezes
From his perch in the bird's nest, the world in his view
A small town boy, who has never seen oceans
In the happiest place, where a boy's dreams come true
While the cornstalks stand duty, wavy pumpkin vine waters
He breaks off a branch and a sword fight ensues..
He says "Tally Ho...Land Ahoy!!" to his crew
Dogs are barking below, and he shouts out a warning
There are sharks all around, so his shipmates must heed
He is Master Commander, the ruler of nations
He dreams of adventure from his loft in the tree
As he watches the clouds sail across a blue sea
Till his mother calls him in, for his suppertime leave
Well, little boys grow, and a childhood will fade
The leaf of the pecan, no longer holds shade
Now a stump of the tree, is all that is left
Yet the memory still thrives, so deep in his breast
When the weight of the world comes tumbling down
He visits this place with the stump in the ground
The rings wrap around him, to take him aboard
To the place of his childhood, a place he adored
Tonight he will sleep in a bed of contentment
In his bunk he will dream of his loft in the tree
Tomorrow he'll climb up the steps to his vessel
Tomorrow he'll be where the eagles fly free....
Poem | |
Words flowing like magic, explode off my page
Taking me on journeys, I didn't seek
My mind is just floating, feelings do race
Her spirit is leading, to heaven I think
Reading but living, each chosen word
Caught up in beauty, emotions I trace
My heart is a flutter, tears sometimes fall
In awe of her verses, as much as her grace
Passion and love, I can feel her heartbeat
Sorrow and pain, mistakes made again
Dancing with nature, you take me by hand
Simply you're beautiful, I'm in love with your pen
Spilling of emotions, out onto the page
Poems come alive, for sure they are real
Confide in me please, all that's concealed
My dearest poetess, you make me feel
Poem | |
"Sequence of Love"
Love possesses many faces
occurring in romantic places
culminated by embraces ...
Love illuminates the soul
intertwining halves to whole
fulfilling a human, earthly role ...
Love radiates rare quality
increasing to a sweet degree
of everlasting ecstasy ...
Love invades enchantingly
perhaps, appears repeatedly,
but only once, comes sacredly ... eventually ...
Poem | |
The world as we know it is coming to an end
I'm sending Morse Code out to my only friend
It takes a lot of dash dash dot dot dots
I'm powering this message with a hundred watts
I am receiving you loud and clear
For our world I too do fear
Sadly man’s actions are to blame
We should hang our heads in shame
Global warming, a hole in the ozone layer
All this negativity, I hate being a naysayer
Let's come together, get tough, crack down
We need to start turning this trend around
Mother Earth is sending us all of the symptoms
To get our act together before self destruction comes.
Written in the clouds are codes my friend,
Warning us that the blue sky may end
We need to heal the world today
Or misery will surely come our way
Don’t cut trees down let nature heal
Soon new growth, our earth will reveal
I'm sending you this message and expect a return
Look what we did in the past and we can learn
Get off your hands, actions speak louder than words
Time to save the rivers, the oceans, the trees, the birds
Poem | |
The night sky awakens from a long days slumber
peers with its eyes down upon us large in number.
The moon is like an orchestra full with every instrument playing.
A falling star sings "Candle In the Wind" on its descent swaying
like a faintly whispered lullaby of Columba drawing me in.
Our lips lock in a singular motion, surrenders, skin on skin.
Our love is stellar, the magnificence of a galaxy, a flood
of blessed light pure, entangles us in each others blood.
I find solace in your touch, but how it leaves me faint
still, brave like Orion I engage you without restraint.
Naked, raw in the aura of the midnight's luster
we undulate to the rhythm of stars in a cluster.
Marvel the milky way, its multitudes of constellations.
Roll in the heavens with its infinitudes of sensations.
The exhilaration of zero gravity our movements free
we explore the vast regions of this cosmic black sea.
Together we surf an evening of carnal pleasures
in these moments discover all the worlds treasures.
Falling into the freedom, with stardust in our hair,
A feeling so intense, that no education could prepare.
With every stroke of the skies nightly portrait of perfection,
Inspirational kisses, under the microscope, intricate inspection.
This power of passion caressing ever second of our being,
In your eyes it is beyond forever that I am seeing.
Written in the stars, the midnight sky writes our history,
Embrace the power of perfection, we are covered in mystery.
Poem | |
GREEN, GREEN, GREEN!!!
My name is Jade Shamrock Green.
I will not eat one single green bean.
When I get mad, I turn green.
I wear my favorite green jeans.
I am hypnotize by the color green.
Not every green path leads to a flowing stream.
I lay on the grass so green.
I won a jackpot of green.
To visit the Green Mountains in Vermont is like a dream.
My eyes are shaded green.
My jealousy comes in the color green.
I diet on green veggies that are lean.
The Green Bay Packers are my favorite team.
I believe all frogs should come in green.
It’s a family gift to carry a green thumb gene.
My garden has the greenest life I have ever seen.
Lemons are yellow, but limes are green.
The Irish do not all believe in green.
In my greenhouse all, the plants are full of good self-esteem.
I'm the jester who wore a green beret for the king and queen.
The unripe sour apple is moldy green!
Flicking me a green bugger is gross and mean.
Why do all leprechauns wear color green?
Not all clovers have only three leafs of green.
Green is the middle color of the rainbow team.
Good Luck, Care Bear's charming eyes are emerald green.
My favorite color has always been green.
This is all about wearing green on March the seventeen.
. (a) S.K.A.T. POETRY (re-post) by;p.d.
. 3-17-10 (update) 3-17-11
Poem | |
Palm trees are swaying island style
Within the gentle trade wind's flow,
As Egrets glide on salty air—
Then land where verdant grasses grow.
Breathe in sweet scents of tuberose
And let fine mist caress your face,
Dive deep into aqua waters—
Become enchanted with this place.
Let your eyes consume the beauty,
Let rhythmic music soothe your mind.
You'll feel the aloha spirit—
A kinder people you won't find.
Go hiking in hillside forests,
There are no bears or snakes that hide,
Just waterfalls you'll find waiting,
That flow toward the ocean side.
In the distance whales are breaching,
Humpbacks with little calves in tow.
They share waters with the dolphins,
And green sea turtles down below.
Can you hear paradise calling?
Whispering your name at sunrise,
To later bask on pearly sands.
Swaying hula hips at moonrise,
Coaxing you to join in the dance.
Exotic Mai Tai in your hands,
Sweet flower leis caress your neck,
Come investigate our islands,
And board on wild waves at surfside,
Cast your cold and cares to the breeze.
Sailing out on sunset cruises—
Take homeward bound warm memories.
© Connie Marcum Wong
To all my poetry friends suffering in the cold states. Come take a mini vacation
from the freezing temperatures. Aloha--
Read more at: http://www.poetrysoup.com/member_area/submit_poems.aspx
Poem | |
You have all heard I am sure of the three musketeers
The group with the swords not the ones with the funny ears
Reminds me of a joke that right here would apply
There are three kinds of people I tell you no lie
Those who are really quite good at math
And those who are not and that's that
They were the three musketeers but they were four
Their math was bad not three, four and no more
I hope you're all still with me, I'm not trying to be a pest
I need you to follow me because at the end there's a test
There is Casarah
Yeah and hurrah
She is a good ma
Then there is Tim
You should know him
He's tall and trim
And finally there is the kind hearted Jan
From England she's the one with no tan
Coy and demure behind her fancy fan
If you kept count that makes three
Who can argue. You'd have to agree.
Now we have arrived at what I am trying to say
I've just joined them and I quite enjoy sword play
Do you see? I am number four.
I'll just walk through their door.
That makes me the best, the fillet mignon
It turns out that I am frikin' D'Artagnan.
Poem | |
Softly and sadly
Up on the knoll;
The vesper bell
Begins to toll.
Lock all the doors
Blow out the light;
The hour is late
Sleep comes with the night.
Close all the windows
Smother the fire;
Sound slips into silence
When mortals retire.
Downstairs is deserted
No one in the hall
Nirvana of sleep
Rules over all.
A day's work completed
Now done like the day;
Rest is now needed
For those made of clay.
How soft is the night
Where dark shadows fall;
The seduction of sleep
Captures us all.
Poem | |
My dress is made of fine peach coloured* lace
Hair is in ringlets, which frames my pretty face
The lights in the room cast a romantic glow
My first ever ball; I must go with the flow
The orchestra strikes up a wonderful tune
Ladies and gentlemen glide round the room
I stand on the sidelines I am oh so very shy
Then a dashing young man catches my eye
I smile at him, then I coyly avert my eyes
I find him so handsome; that I cannot disguise
He reaches tenderly for my awaiting hand
We move to the dance floor; oh it is so grand
His arm wrapped around my tiny waist
We dance to the music, there is no haste
So full of excitement at the hope of romance
I float round the room at my very first dance
At the end of the dance he bows down low
My heart is aflutter I hope this does not show
He leads me gently to the side of the room
Sweet roses enchant us, we smell their perfume
Time flies by so fast and we dance all night
He looks in my green eyes and to my delight
Whispers so gently those words I long to hear
You simply are the belle of the ball my dear
He reaches out gently and kisses my hand
My first ever ball has been oh so grand
Sadly now it is time for me to depart
I bid adieu to the man who has stolen my heart
*English spelling used
Contest: Ballroom Delights
Sponsor Isaiah Zerbst
~awarded 1st place~
~awarded 3rd place~PD Best poem of 2014~
Poem | |
Barefoot we spent our time in spring,
Just giggling kids - how sweet the dream.
Both we and love were blossoming.
We’d splash inside a cool fresh stream.
Our time in spring - how sweet the dream!
A few years passed; there came an ache
for something more in summertime.
We felt such heat! Down by the lake
we soothed our ache. It was sublime
down by the lake in summertime!
The decades fled. An autumn love
now finds us strolling casually
along a shore. An ocean of
devotion flows deep as the sea.
An autumn love - deep as the sea!
For the "Give me one of your best old or new it's up to you" Poetry Contest
of Mystic Rose
Poem | |
The shining light hides behind my eyes,
Comes in a super nova surprise
My spirit glides into the skies,
Spreading the perfect heat like the sunrise
I was like a diamond under the beauty of the ocean!
My current rides out with smooth motions,
Leaving a taste with intense emotion
Captured by my tides, sunk to my love potion
The sun sends my waves like a mirage of snow
I got the moon to favor upon my glow
With every star touching my inner soul
A glimpse of darkness in my light entwining with a massive flow
Blinded by my own ECLIPSE!
My sun & moon collide
Until the day we both touch lips
Poem | |
In a house beside the forest lives a woman and her son
He is scarred by burns and fire – hidden kept from everyone
There is land where he can wander far away from prying eyes,
But he misses friends to play with; all alone he often cries.
That is why he gets excited at the thought of Halloween
He can mix with other children without fear of being seen.
Mother picks the perfect costume that will fit his height and size
Then she adds a mask for comfort – the completion of disguise.
The boy behind the mask wishes every day was Halloween
He'd gladly offer friendship to any child who wasn't mean
But he knows that one day he will be too old for trick or treat
And he prays each morn to see the sunshine on a public street
Even though he realizes his wish may never be fulfilled
For he'd have to learn to avoid stares and let confidence build
After reading the sad tale of Frankenstein, he sheds a tear
As he can relate to Frankenstein and sees him as a peer
And so he keeps reading stories of people judged by their looks
His greatest fear is what will happen when he runs out of books
This is a collaboration between Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire