[Critique Group 2] Pieces for January 30th Meeting

[Abbie Taylor]

###1. Valerie Moreno’s Poem

Standing

a the

threshhold of this time,

will you be a blessing

or mire of twists or sorrows again?

somewhere I pray for even, calm, balance

hope and faith on alert for misty signs.

Whatever I encounter, may it brace me with endurance.

###2. Alice Massa's Poe

January Sunbeams

by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

Having survived a number of the record-setting gray days
on this Frozen Tundra, beside the lake--
I graciously welcome into my abode
the rare January sunbeams
that take their rest for a few short hours
upon the beige carpet of my living room.

"Willow, come!  Sunbeams!"
I cheer for my guide dog.
When she joins me, I encourage her:
"You have to catch the sunbeams."
My British Black Labrador complies:
she nestles down into the warmth of the January sunshine.
In this patch of sunbeam,
I know Willow does not dream of
her blue boots, red coat, nor salt.
My mellow Lab is in
a yellow Jell-O of comfy contentment.

After catching her limit of January sunbeams,
Willow returns to her bed 
beside my computer desk
and patiently awaits the sounder
that alerts her 
to my computer's shutting down--
our cue to arise for a winter walk.

To waylay Cabin Fever,
Willow and I leave some January sunbeams
alone in the warmth of our living room
while we, bedecked in Arctic attire,
head outside
and hope other January sunbeams
will follow us,
warm our path,
brighten this January day,
lighten the load of this Wisconsin winter.

###3. Abbie Taylor’s Poem

⠠⠠⠇⠊⠌⠢ TO WINTER

Hear the silent snowfall.
See white flakes swirl.
Feel the warmth of two pairs of socks.
Breathe in the aroma of cocoa.
Taste the hot chocolate.

Outdoors, one degree below zero,
feel the frozen snow beneath your feet.
See streets, sidewalks, grass, swathed in white.
Hear the whine of a snow blower.
Smell the exhaust from idling cars.
Back indoors, enjoy more hot cocoa.

###4. Leonard Tuchyner’s Poem

Gentle Hand
      by
Leonard Tuchyner
Do not depend on a gentle hand
to be powerless and submissive.
Gentleness is born out of courage,
nurtured by confidence in one’s self.
Only fear ignites the hasty smite.
Heaven blesses a tranquil heart.
When the sabered tiger lurks,
A soft hand can often soothe
the perilous savage beast
to peaceful, quiet slumber.
But the silken hand that strokes
may be that which breaks a back,
for lack of other options.
Receive kindness with grace and gratitude,
honoring the giving, gentle hand.

Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author http://abbiescorner.wordpress.com
http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com
abbie at mysero.net
Order my new memoir at http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com/memoir.htm