Tuesday, April 24, 2018

April Activity Feature--Acrostic Poems--Hosted By--Jack Horne--Whispers’ Activity Feature Editor

It was delightful to read all your acrostics, and to see where your imaginations led you. Many thanks to everyone who participated.
                                                                        Jack Horne
                                                                        Your Whispers’ Activity Feature Editor



Promising warmer days and
removing her flattering green wraps,
invitations are sent out to bees and insects.
Morning visitors arrive early
refreshments await
of overnight rain delicately
served in her centre piece, then as
earthworms helpfully clear away
she settles for a siesta in the sun. 

Annie Jenkin, England 



W onders
O  f
R  ichly
D  eserved
S  ignificance

Pat Geyer, United States


I Love You

It was you who saved me from the ennui.

Languishing in a sea’s decaying lull
Oblivious, I, to your arioso –
Verses that waltzed on a floral leitmotiv
Each syllable soaked in love.

You sang to me by the moons bay
Over the waves that crashed in tempo
Under the stars where we bid solitude adieu.

Feby Joseph, India



Sweet scented blossom
Perfume fills the air
Rejuvenating the world with colour
Irises wave in the wind like purple flags
New life everywhere
Get out and enjoy the spring sunshine!

Jan Allison, Isle of Man 



So beautifully swims the fleet!
Webbed feet cut the water as oar.
And wings raise to the sky as sail.
Necks sway as hood of snakes. 

Partha Chatterjee, India.



Easter is a very happy time of year
As some celebrate Jesus our dear
So many will be resurrected clear
This Son of God, died with cheer 
Every human is now void of fear
Remembering He coved our rear

Yancy Lee Dalton, United States



Impossible is the day
Meandering in indecision
Proving I know little
Of what constitutes
Social mores
Supposedly not difficult
In others' estimation
But I dither
Lost in too much thinking
Empty of positivity

Isha Wagner, New Zealand



I’m trapped upon a field of white
My tears invisible,
Anchored here by light
Ghostlike, intangible;
Escape comes with the night.

Nick Spargo, United Kingdom



Questions are not answered
Until fully answered by yourself.
Everyone is always
Searching for
Truth, but
Indeed, by the words 
Of others
Never will your truth be 

Linda Imbler, United States


Angela Lee

Angela is my life
No better friend in the universe
Greatest Love of all
Every Day I thank God
Love of my life
Angela My Soul Mate
Love of my long life
Everything I ever desire
Everything I ever needed

Jake Aller, United States



Continuum of love
In joining our hands
Reaching out to God
Concerns shared in faith
Living in the light
Eternal spring of hope

Karen O'Leary, United States



Whispers breezing through the kingdom
Heard and understood by the wise
Insightful are words of wisdom
Speaking, quietly, without lies
Perchance a truth to set one free
Enslaved by chained conformity
Rebel against the status-quo
Special message so few may know.

James Dean Chase, United States



Spring sunrise through pink clouds
Pastel purples streak through
Rays of orange and reds
Into a sky - light blue
New day dawns - flowers bloom
Grand, the Earth's, rainbow loom!

James Dean Chase, United States



Paw prints
On my heart
Old dog

Barbara Tate, United States



Turning a blind eye was not the solution to
Overcome the drawbacks which life bestows
Upon its unwary innocent victims.
Creative communicative touch gave
Hope to the grateful followers of Braille.

Paul Callus, Malta



C onfident little explorer
U sing her talent to sneak
R apidly and silently
I n her dominion
O f her eyes-wide-open
S acred territory
I ntolerant to all, who are
T he uninvited ones
Y es, that's my darling cat

Inge Wesdijk, The Netherlands



The curtains on the window
Are interwoven,
Part of it is knitted.
Endless hours were spent
Sewing on the fringe.
Time has yellowed the colors,
Reminding me we are all
Yearning to connect.

Mary Bone, United States



When night time appears
Hope is nearby-
It overcomes my fears.
Shadows on the wall,
Permeate my mind.
Eerie sounds are just creaks,
Reverberating the walls
Silence prevails.

Mary Bone, United States



Every time I’m on the stage,
Numbness overcomes me.
Catcalls in the back,
Or loud noises
Render me-
Enveloped and speechless.

Mary Bone, United States



The light fades and
Hundreds of birds seeking shelter
Under leaves and branches
Nature seems frozen in time
Dark and leaden clouds send lightning from far
Endless rain lets
Rivers rise and flood

Gert Knop, Germany



Considering the pain
Others may endure
My mind and heart cannot again
Pretend it doesn’t matter.
Against the wrong 
Standing strong
Speaking for the other
I offer self - I’ll not condone
 One attack against another.
 No one stands alone.

 Debbie Felio, United States



Somewhere safe
Accepting of all
None turned away
Care is the call
Theology is love
Understanding the fear
All could be lost
Regardless how dear.
Your brother, your sister, your neighbors are here.

Debbie Felio, United States



Better to be a butterfly
Under a blue sky
Than to be a mole
That lives underground
Eating grubs and worms
Rather than luscious pollen 
Favored by hummingbirds
Loved by butterflies
Yummy!  Yummy!

Elizabeth Howard, United States


Spring Snow



Kelley White, United States




Dr. Upma A. Sharma, India



Saying that invisible and unseen is God,
Ultra divine powers I saw in my mother's lap,
Mannequins could turn alive with her one touch,
Inspiring and motivating is her immense love,
Tolerance and patience is she embellished with,
Reminisce the times she nurtured me in affection,
Admire His blessings for me on this earth !!

*Sumitra is my loving mother's first name, God bless her. 

Dr. Upma A. Sharma, India



Tulips on an April morning . . .
Unrivaled display of spring blooms
Little turbans topping tall stems
In the park, a sight to behold
People pausing in the moment
Scent mingling with the morning air.

Mary Gunn, Ireland



By sole reference to self
Every senseless sense in my soul
Tells me to surrender them
Relocate them
Aid them out of this land
Years of their polite possessions
And loyal longings, by self
Love, I dispatch them.

Denis Barasa, Kenya


Monday, April 23, 2018

The Time-Machine--By Jack Horne--England

The Time-Machine

Last week, I built a time-machine,
and, first, I traveled back to see
the dinosaurs upon the Earth;
they tried to eat or trample me!

Such fun to set the clock and then
I'd whoosh through time, from age to age:
I saw the Romans, Vikings, Celts,
and witnessed Shakespeare on the stage.

I longed to be with you again;
I'd travel back and there I'd stay...
my memories and what I saw
were quite at odds, like night and day.

I realised that in my mind
I'd changed the past; my love was blind.

Jack Horne enjoys reading and writing poetry. He is Whispers Activity Features Editor.

Sunday, April 22, 2018

Special Feature Young Writer--By Eren Cehreli--Turkey

lego train
the world peace 
is simendifer

a kite
the summer days
never end

garden party
i always wear
a messi uniform

Six-year old, Eren Cehreli, shares poetry with us that is remarkable at such a young age. He is a student at Lycée Français Charles de Gaulle at CP class.  CP class, explains his aunt, Fatma Gultepe, is the first class of primary school.

Key to My Heart--By Allan Ball--England

Key to My Heart 

Life is never easy 
Living with a broken heart

Will you ever realise
I loved you from the start

Alas you never noticed me
A lonely figure in full sight

Flickering eternally
A distant candlelight

Still, I wait and wonder
What the future has in store

You see I really love you 
And need you even more 

Allan Ball has retired from a career in the Banking and Financial sector. Writing is both peaceful and rewarding, the written word allows our hearts to speak. His poems have been published in anthologies.

Friday, April 20, 2018

Sonnet 100, Springs First Sweet Kiss--By Ken Allan Dronsfield--United States

Sonnet 100, Springs First Sweet Kiss

Sing me a sonnet of springs first sweet kiss.
Let me gaze at splendid colors around.
warm sun touching my cheeks; the cold remiss.
those angelic sounds of spring now abound.
The morning songbirds sing loud flying high,
honks of northbound geese waving in the mist.
the buzz of the bees all about the sky
The bedroom curtains gently dance and twist
whisper to me lines of a Summer's rhyme.
Sing me a last sweet winter serenade;
of things my memory shall keep in time
renewal of nature for which we prayed
await our toast to this sonnet with wine
springs first sweet kiss, we relax in the shade.

Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran and poet residing in Oklahoma. Ken enjoys music, writing and spending time with his cats Willa, Hemi and Turbo. He has one poetry collection, The Cellaring and is Co-Editor for 2 poetry anthologies. His work can be viewed in numerous (online) magazines and anthologies worldwide. Ken loves life!

Frühling--By Arthur Rehbein (1867-1952)--Translated By--Gert Knop--Germany

Arthur Rehbein (pseudonym Atz vom Rhyn)—In Memory 1867-1952—Germany
(shared and authorized for individual monthly publication by Gert Knop—a Whispers’ contributor since 2013. Arthur was one of Gert's grandfather's brothers.)


Frühling (German)—Original poem by Arthur Rehbein

O wunderschöner Maientag,
den nie ich im Leben vergessen mag!
O Sonnengold und Lenzens Lust,
O würziger, kräftiger Tannenwaldduft!
An meiner Seite die lieblichste Maid -
O Frühlingszeit, Maienpracht, Seligkeit


Spring (English)—Translation by Gert Knop

O beautiful May day,
that I'll never forget in life!
O sun's gold and springtime's delight,
O flavoursome, strong pine forest scent!
By my side the loveliest maiden -
O Springtime, May splendor, bliss


Primavera (Spanish)—Translation by Gert Knop

Oh hermoso día de mayo,
¡que nunca olvidaré en la vida!
O el oro del sol y el deleite de la primavera,
O sabroso, fuerte olor a bosque de pinos!
A mi lado la doncella más adorable
O primavera, esplendor de mayo, felicidad


Arthur Rehbein, also known under his pseudonym Atz vom Rhyn, was one of Gert Knop’s grandfather's brothers. He was born on October 26, 1867 in Remscheid, North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany and died on February 29, 1952 in Berlin, Germany. His son Max H. Rehbei was a journalist, TV-editor and producer for the NDR (North German Radio). Arthur Rehbein was a journalist and author. He did extensive travels around the world and published many books including three volumes of poetry.

Thursday, April 19, 2018

Editor's Thoughts/Friendship--By Karen O'Leary--United States

Dear Whispers’ Friends,

Thank you for all your support and encouragement.  Not a day goes by that I don’t think about our poetry family. As gather to share our poetry, we knit a fabric in which each person that graces our journal adds strands to. The fabric grows and becomes stronger.

After five years of publishing, I feel blessed to have met many wonderful people along the way.  Some have crossed our borders for a season, some staying since the onset, yet each voice has a purpose.  I set out to share an online journal that allowed beginning poets and accomplished writers to rest side by side—each sharing an equal space.

The relationships are the greatest gift of the writing experience for me. Caring about each other matters.  I treasure my co-editors Jack Horne and Inge Wesdijk for allowing Whispers to grow with more opportunities to share the gift of words.  Inge accepted “Friendship” for publication this month which I am grateful. 


From heart to heart
Respect & caring
In love it grows
Enriching gift
Nestled in warmth
Demanding nothing
Sharing souls
Helping with kindness
Inspiring words
Perpetual light

Before this turns into a book, I would like to close with thank you, again.  Best wishes with your writing journeys.


Karen—your humble editor

Enter your poem--By Ngozi Olivia Osuoha--Nigeria

Enter your poem

Poetry is an Art,
It could draw a chart
By sales in the mart
But it lives in the heart

Poetry is a song
The echo can't be wrong
It always lasts for long

Poetry is a vaccine
It can heal like medicine

Poetry is life

Poetry is like a tribe
Where everyone is a scribe
Words, we want to imbibe

Poetry is a village
Where we share our knowledge
Into an artistic collage

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha is a Nigerian poet/writer/thinker, a graduate of Estate Management with experience in banking and broadcasting . She has published over 130 poems in over 10 countries and featured in over 15 international anthologies, 3 poetry books are published The Transformation Train, Letter to My Unborn and Sensation, available on Amazon.com

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

It's Only Words--By Susan Kahil--Spain

It's Only Words

It’s only words that fill this page
My thoughts passing through this age
Why are you reading me, I’d like to know?
Is it simply because I put them on show
The question arises why do I?
Bare my soul, let you pry
The only reason I can figure out
Is that myself I must doubt
For if I were so sure and content
I would in silence, know what is meant
One fine day after I have untangled my rhythm
I’ll come to this conclusion a final decision
That my poetry is but for me a learning curve
The journey in which I myself observed
To find that all words are but emotions
Spelling in drops into a vast ocean
So for now read my dictations from the heart
I’ll soon be gone, will have to depart
For I will be wiser and so very sure
Its only words, there’s so much more

Susan Kahil poet/singer/songwriter from London UK, now in Spain on a mountain valley farm living a semi sufficient lifestyle using solar/wind power and growing own food. Susan draws inspiration for poetry and songs from nature and the cosmos. She is currently working on her first book Starlight Translated out later this year https://www.facebook.com/StarlightTranslated/  

Christ Consciousness--By Yancy Dalton--United States

Christ Consciousness (a sonnet)
Jesus taught by both example & words
Love one another even thrilled love birds
Love as ye live, do not quarrel or fight
Give up thy pride, follow my divine light

Repent & be baptized my humble ways
Holy Ghost is given, hearts guiding rays
Follow my ordained servants at all times
The chosen vessels of my priesthood lines

Find your way in my living head apostle
Who's with authority, my chosen vessel
Savior of mankind, all ages & kinds
Your shepherd brother from our father binds

In me, find eternal life, don't just glance
You're not on earth by accident or chance

Yancy Dalton grew up on a cattle ranch riding, roping and branding calves. He started writing poetry after college, church mission and marriage.  When he first started writing online, the name "Yancy" was often taken for a girl's name. So, he made up a pen name to progress as a poet called "Knight Writer."

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Poetry 'n Stuff--By Nick Spargo--United Kingdom

Poetry 'n Stuff

Some say that poetry is best
when taken in small doses.
That poets are all suffering
from strange, bizarre psychoses.
Some say that they were taught
at school to play around with words.
But learning to compose by rote
is strictly for the birds.
Taught to be a poet?
I don’t think it can be learned.
To gain the muse of poetry
 is something that is earned.
Through your life’s experiences,
you absorb it by osmosis.
And find that you can rhyme a word like

Nick Spargo writes poetry, short stories and monologues. He has been published extensively and has won a number of prizes with his work. He lives in the South-West of England.