Tag Archives: Featured Writer

Featured Writer – Heidi Baker



Fully Their Own

Laundry can wait for morning.

Sleet bouncing on the rooftop is for pajamas,

yawning, soft music, letting legos in their piles

be uniquely organized floor ornaments.

I gather another brownie,

a second cup of coffee, my breath in one large motion

before curling up beside the space heater,

snug in a crocheted blanket.

Dark comes early, whispering, “Slow down, listen,

look up and see the children grow

a little more amazing

every minute.”

I stare so long each one asks, “Mom, what?”

I smile, just barely remembering we once shared a body,

then lightning-aware that these children

are fully their own.


Written by, Heidi Baker


To read more of Heidi’s lovely words, please visit her website at: http://heidibethbaker.weebly.com/

And you can also purchase her book on Amazon by clicking, here.

Photo credit: pixabay.com

Featured Writer – Annette Rochelle Aben



Do you know how worthy you are

Well, just look about you

Look close, look far

You’ll see trees, lakes and mountains, the sun, moon and stars

That, my friend is how worthy you are


Know in your heart, that this paradise golden

Was created for you, in times so long ago, olden

And there was no test you had to take, to know if this, your home, you should make

For the Creator, knew the master plan, that the space needed to be oh, so worthy of man


Yet, there are times, in this space, we feel so lost

As though we haven’t the money to cover the cost

Of the splendor around us, those vast open spaces

We long to retreat to our hide away places

We want to punish ourselves for we think we are less

Than all that surrounds us; with all we’ve been blessed


And then we get to feeling smaller than small

Worries and burdens loom so very tall

It’s hard to remember to simply close our eyes

And go to that still, small place inside

To find the peace and love that we truly seek

And grow beyond the illusion of being weak


For you are the container for the world’s greatest riches

Held together without staples or stiches

You were entrusted with a glorious spirit, a beautiful soul

Which are more valuable than all the world’s gold

More perfect and awesome than all we can see

For you were blessed with the opportunity, just to BE


Life is the most intoxicating of perfumes and you, the finest of jars

And that, my friend, is how worthy you ARE!


©2017 Annette Rochelle Aben

For more inspirational writings by Annette, please visit her site at:


Photo credit: pixabay.com

Featured Writer – Ayodele-Oja Temidayo Olayide


Let’s Talk

Let’s talk about things we don’t usually talk about.

Let’s talk about the pain people hide beneath the cuts.  

Let’s talk about the secrets students bury because they are afraid to talk.

Let’s talk about the dust that old hunchback cleaners with warm smiles sweep out of classrooms, creating sandstorms.

Let’s talk about the whispers flown miles away from circles of teenagers.

Let’s talk about the books we are dying to read but won’t discuss.

Let’s talk about the corrupt we motivate.

Let’s talk about the things we hate, that boil our blood underneath the skins we dread.

Let’s talk about the sky. 

Let’s talk about death and how the unknown prevents us from sleeping.

Let’s talk about the spirits within us that are begging, begging to take over.

Let’s talk about the words we said, didn’t mean to say, wanted to say, couldn’t say, wished to say, lived to say, and died trying to say.

Let’s talk about the future we hope to see in a crystal ball.

Let’s talk about those dodging bullets and bracing violent waves.

Let’s talk about the dreams that have shattered and have yet to be reborn.

Let’s talk about those without a place to call home.

Let’s talk about love and how we all secretly wish for it.

Let’s talk about how selfish and greedy we all are.

Let’s talk about how cruel we’ve made the world and how we are going to make all of it stop.


Written by, Ayodele-Oja Temidayo Olayide

To read more of Temidayo’s wonderfully inspiring words, please visit; poetryandproze.

Photo credit: pixabay.com

Featured Writer – Charlie Hasler


The Prison I Create

There are no bars keeping me in, there is no door without a key in.

All the lights are on without a flicker or dim, my soul free to wonder out or in.

And yet I stay frozen to one spot, unable to get past the lock that is not.

I sit and stare at my loves fading smile, trapped in the memory of when I could hold her for a while.

I curse myself and my internal latch, that I cannot get loose from this imaginary catch.

My hands are sore, my eyes are weak, my internal light ever growing darker and bleak.

The man I once was becoming a ghost in time, locked behind this illusion of mine.

Gone of days when life was a dream to catch, why can I not get past this imaginary latch.

There are no bars, there is no steel, why does my mind command me to kneel.

I have no words, only hate, inside this prison I do create.

I scratch a marking on the wall, to remind me I must obey or face the fall.

And fall I do, further still, into this invisible pit I created by the freedom of my own free will.

The hangman’s noose so appealing, but today is not my time, I remain for the true love of mine.

No illusionists trick, nor jailers whip, will see me lose my iron like grip.

So I will go on inside my imaginary jail and yes there will be a time that I shall prevail.

Written by, Charlie Hasler
For more thought provoking poems, please visit: www.charliesaysblog.com

Charlie can also be found on Twitter @hasler2charlie

Photo credit: Pixabay.com

Featured Writer – Autumn Cook


My daughters… Autumn (8)  Brianna (15)

World of Sweets

Taffy to candy corn

Cookies and brownies


What to choose?

Caramel apples?

I don’t know…

What to have,

In the world of sweets?

I guess candy is too sweet to eat,

In a world of sweets.

So I’m having it all!

Written by, Autumn Cook (Age 8)

Featured Writer – B.L.C.


A Dream Land in Which I Wish to Sleep in

Pink firecrackers flash by me with excellent speed

With each and every step

I can hear the cosmos calling my name



A shooting star

A wish

“I wish to dream”

“And to keep going onward”

Downwards to the star gate

And into the fountain of milky ways

It gently pours onto my delicate figure

How sweet the taste

How intoxicating the smell

My senses in a daze

It seems even in my dreams

I’m already half way asleep

My eyes close

I step in

Deep into the ocean of galaxies

Just remember to sing the astronauts goodnight

As I slowly drift away…

Written by, B.L.C.

To read more from this talented new blogger, please visit her site: www.brinkbrinkbreak.wordpress.com

Photo credit: imgpile.com

Featured Writer – Devereaux Frazier


Reflections In Morning Light


I wake up

and see the morning sun

Feel the rays warm cold skin

as curtains are parted in joy

All around me, life is sounding

birds tweeting, cats meowing

and people going to work

As I wake up

my heart beats faster

my head swivels, preparing for the day

my hands readied for this game

Inside me is stirring

sad bowels

wise as owls

I shouldn’t have eaten that day old salad

Waking up

I notice the many emails from the night

Comments from you

appreciating how and what I write

Fully awaken

with goals to be taken

and expectations to be shaken

I am grateful for the light

It keeps me warm

it keeps me in the right

it keeps me


Written by, Devereaux Frazier

*Devereaux is a wonderfully talented teen writer, who has become such a blessing to me and my family.  You won’t want to miss the opportunity to see more of his creative writing.  Please visit his blog here.

Photo credit: pixabay.com




Featured Writer – John Horner

Sandbox Souvenirs

In myriad ways, now and since,
I’m less a formidable force than then,
When I was Icarus on a banana-seat Schwinn,
A Double Dragon defeater on fifty cents,
A baleful Blackfoot in dun buckskin,
Or a Ranger with hardened steel in his chin.

Deep thoughts were enumerated tootsie pop licks
Or scissor-splitting spit-clogged pixie sticks;
Didn’t take it too hard on a Sadie Hawkins miss—
Holding hands was adventurous, never mind a kiss;
And wouldn’t make too much of the little pinpricks
A bully might brandish against a simple bliss.

Miss Welch taught me cursive for counted naught;
Miss Bryant once jacked me to my toes by an ear
(I feigned half-deaf-to-left for the rest of that year);
Principal Eubanks had the handle on a hardwood swat
And kept my mother’s work-number too damn near—
My heart pocketed it all as a sandbox souvenir.

There seemed less to lose and more to ponder,
In a Members Only jacket impossible to launder
And pants of patched and pearl-snapped corduroy;
If there be any brilliance in me, or purest joy,
Any brightness beyond my most selfish squander,
Let it be the beam of that brave and unbroken boy.

Written by, John Horner

For more of John’s wonderful poems, please visit his website here.

Photo credit: pixabay.com

Featured Writer – Jambo Stewart


Intrigue them with your flash fiction

Seduce them with your short stories

Let them fall in love with your novel


For further inspiring thoughts from Jambo Stewart, please visit his blog here.

Photo credit: pixabay.com

Featured Writer – Eva


Reflection about life:

What is this gift? Yes gift, because we never ask for. It has been given to us, due to randomness and nature. But there is no notice with it! Plus how complex it is!

Life is a mix of genetics, of a certain periods, of people met, of experiences, of places visited… These are the cards, now let’s play with them. Just take care, there is a limited time for this gift. We don’t know the end, but still… it will end in a moment. How do we know it? Because of previous people who have received similar gifts.

For my part, I have had this gift for 19 years. I played with it and it has been tough. I almost ran out of cards. I don’t know why I didn’t, and especially wonder how I didn’t lose all of my cards during hard times. Luck, perhaps? I don’t really trust luck. To my mind, luck might appear when you are trying to climb the mountain, not when you have given up. So no effort, no luck.

Today, I still own my gift; but strangely it’s like I’ve just received it. I still don’t understand how I should handle it. I’m confused and lost. My cards have evolved in 19 years. But I can’t see what I have in my hands; it’s fuzzy. I can’t distinguish anything clearly, and I wonder who could lift the fog. Nobody seems to have the ability… The fuzziness will never entirely disappear, but it can be subdued.

The truth is, because it’s my own gift, no one else can hold the cards for me.

Moreover, I have to make choices. With which cards do I want to go on? It also means which cards will I leave? So what is the best choice? Well, how can I know without trying…? And actually, is there a best choice, or is it me who needs to make it a good choice? It might be both. A balance of both. Make a good choice and make it be a good choice!  Ok, this lovely gift is so complex, so mysterious, so unknown…

Then what is the aim? Oh I forget, there is no notice.

For more wonderful inspiration from Eva, please visit her blog here.

Photo credit: pixabay.com

A pound of marriage


“There are various ounces of romance in the truth of a pound of marriage. I doubt any marriage carries all sixteen full of romantic fun and games.” ~Oneta Hayes

Photo credit: bogdankipko.com

Featured Writer – Ashley Moss


I’ll Be Your Angel

When you’re alone and feeling blue,

When you don’t know what to do,

When you need a friend to talk to

and you’re wondering who,

Because I have problems too,

I’ll be your angel.

I’ll be your angel in the heat

of the night.

When you don’t have the

strength to, for you I’ll fight.

I’ll be your angel when the

world seems cold.

When you come to my heart

broken, your hand I’ll hold.

I’ll be your angel.

I’m not dressed in robes

 of white.

 Yet, I’ll be a pillar of strength

for you.

I don’t have wings, and am

not always right.

Yet, I’ll inspire hope in


I don’t have a halo, that’s


Yet, I’ll pray for you.

Whenever you’re feeling

down, give me a call.

I’ll catch you if you fall.

Because I believe in you,

I’ll be your angel.


Written by, Ashley Moss

For more inspiring poems, please visit Ashley and download her free poetry e-book.
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Featured Writer – The Starlit Octave Band


Where the ocean meets the sky

To me, who’s deep drowned in the sea
Water’s turning green
You know I, my vision sees
The sin

To I, who’s hit the bottom of ocean
In a slowly hitting motion
Breaking all my bones
In mine

Common, let me save my life
Common, let me, rejoice
Common, let me go up to the sun
For its time for the homerun

Common, let the wind and the tide
Give me, the better ride
Where the ocean meets the sky

Where the glory is if you haven’t
Broken all the rules
Why the braveheart stands still
Like a lazy golden goose

Where the time is tide
And so my life
Is a wild race
Go and win, and be unchanged to embrace the change

Common, let me save my life
Common, let me, rejoice
Common, let me go up to the sun
For its time for the homerun

Common, let the wind and the tide
Give me, the better ride
Where the ocean meets the sky

All I need, a little help
A note to myself
Where are you oh my dear
Are you ready to change?

All I say the golden words
Go up to the Sun
For the sky was the limit of the past
Now its time for homerun

Common, let me save my life
Common, let me, rejoice
Common, let me go up to the sun
For its time for the homerun

Common, let the wind and the tide
Give me, the better ride
Where the ocean meets the sky


Written by, The Starlit Octave Band

For more inspiring poems, please visit:  The Starlit Octave Band

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Featured Writer – Frank Solanki


Let Me Read You The Morning News

So happy, so happy, so happy was I
The flowers bloomed while the birds flew in the sky
And everything seemed to be in its place
Wide smile on every child’s face
And they sang and danced in a tune
Like they always do when it’s June
To let the folks jump and croon
It seemed the rains had come a tad too soon

When was the last time? I can’t remember
Maybe back in January or late December
That everybody was feeling so high
And not a single face with a sigh
No poet, I think, could ever write
And describe such a beautiful sight
Even if one were to stay up all night
And try and try with all its might

Why would anyone step out of bed
And not stare out of the window instead
And dream and dream and dream away
On such a lovely summer’s day?
But as happy, as happy, as happy as I could be
And with a cup of coffee next to me
I picked up the morning news to see
Just what it had in store for me

And I read and read about the world
A war was declared and bombs were hurled
Thousands of lives had been washed away
But the print read like any other day
I wondered, I wondered and began to think
The world, it seemed was on the brink
And I dared not to take another blink
For my heart had just begun to sink

And I turned a page just to find
A thousand other things that disturbed my mind
Children playing with real guns
And others dying of starvation
Rich folks flaunting their polished cars
And drinking champagne in fancy bars
And what good is life and water on Mars
When they never found a cure for scars?

Fans killing each other over a game
A sweet angel born without a name
A man killing his friend in a brawl
Economy and currency in free fall
Does not the editor owe me an apology
For ruining my day so cruelly?
Or is there something wrong with me?
Or is it just the way I see?

I guess we all look differently at things
Truth enlightens some; some it stings
When peace and quiet is there to choose
We decide to pick the morning news
Maybe I could not open my eyes to see
The truth, the facts and reality
Someday it will set me free
Till then I’ll wait for the answer and let it be


Written by, Frank Solanki

For more inspiring poems by Frank, please visit his blog at: Frank Solanki

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Featured Writer – Paper Stars and Blue Honey Poems


The Writer

Writings along the walls

Writings along the roads

Words pouring out of the people around her

Letters simply buzzing by in the air

Nobody saw them

Except for one

The one called

“The Writer”

The Writer took these words

And put them onto paper

She took them

Stroked them

Took care of them

And they took care of her in return

Like a crazy cat lady

She had thousands of them

Each of them she knew by name

The people of the town

Knew not of these words

They saw the air around them

They saw bees buzzing

Saw the trees swaying

But words never spoke to them

The words didn’t speak to anyone except for The Writer
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