M. L. Kiser Poet Prose

Whispers From the Trees

Dusk casts a sepia glow upon 
sentinel specters of the wood;
another summer has passed and
the autumn shedding lay all about me
as I sit swinging and remember,
how the wildflowers filled
this glen a few weeks ago.
In the ephemeral light, whispers are heard.
I wait as she wanders between the gnarled 
branches; I catch the impressions
from my muse, while she strolls
beneath these storytellers. 


5-12-2021
ALL YOURS (May 12) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand

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JC Brul May 12, 2021 at 3:33 PM What an ephemeral serenity I found in this poem! I love this. A fave for me! M. L. Kiser May 19, 2021 at 12:56 PM I'm glad, thanks so much.

Caren Krutsinger September 19, 2020 at 3:00 PM I like it that your muse is strolling. Trixie never strolls; much too frantic and Type A for strolling. M. L. Kiser September 22, 2020 at 8:32 AM It's some of her most creative moments and then suddenly she comes dashing into my head screaming, pen, pen, pen, now!

John Castellenas September 17, 2020 at 10:40 AM Wonderful use of words for nature. I listen to the whispers of nature and I taught my children. To listen to. Thank you for the amazing poetry. M. L. Kiser September 22, 2020 at 8:33 AM Thank you John, there is nothing more inspiring than nature to me.

Vijay Pandit September 8, 2020 at 5:19 AM Wonderful impressions, MLK--I hear the whispers of nature in your exquisite imagery. M. L. Kiser September 15, 2020 at 4:16 AM I'm glad and thank you.

Sigrid Ermine September 8, 2020 at 4:22 AM Wrapt in your perception. Wrapped too! ... So lovely. Hope you were in these spaces depicted very recently. Gorgeous M. L. Kiser September 15, 2020 at 4:17 AM Many times I have been there. Thank you.

Rico Leffanta September 7, 2020 at 7:34 PM Luckily, you have trees! Aloha! Rico M. L. Kiser September 15, 2020 at 4:17 AM I don't know how people live without them around. Thanks Rico.