Creations Poetry

The Daydreamer
by Karen Ethelsdattar • Union City, NJ

The daydreamer, the bluestocking,
the girl with her nose in a book
when she should have been
cleaning her room,
the girl who read under the
bedcovers
with a flashlight, getting caught
again & again,
the young wife who burnt supperbecause she was trying to read
a book
at the same time she cooked,
the wife who wouldn’t come to bed
with her husband
because she was reading or writing
a poem,
has now dreamed & written
& published
a book of her own.

The Bear
by Maxwell Corydon Wheat, Jr., • Freeport

She sleeps
in the hollow
under a rock ledge
the entrance sheltered
by a comforter of snow
On this silent night
shepherds see in Polar North
the astral bear, a sign
that in earth’s blackness
eight-ounce newborns
are nursing on Creation’s
warm milk

Brief Introspection
by Roberta A. McQueen • Amityville

Engaging in self-examination
of thoughts and feelings
though carefully scrutinized
in my mind
took less time
than anticipated
Is this cause for alarm
or celebration?

The Loss
by Garry D’Brant • Huntington

You came to me like a tide of hope
Stealing my despair, like the sun steals
the morning dew from the flowers
You left like a wave of sadness
Crashing upon the shoals of my heart.
Dragging me ever deeper into the murky
depths of my solitude
In between, you filled my days like the
wind blowing through the grass
Tossing it one way and then the next
Never knowing what new feeling or twist
of my heartstrings would be plucked
But waiting and thrilling for more
The loss is unimaginable

Ice skating
by Nicholas Freiman, age 9 • Huntington

I step on to the rink,
so icy and cold.
The dark silvery moonlight,
on the cold ice floor.
I whiz past people, faster
than a rocket in space.
As I skate in the moonlight,
with a cold icy face.

Progress
by Barbara Novack, Laurelton

When I was a child,
deer came down
to my aunt’s kitchen window.
Now from her kitchen window
I see other kitchen windows.

Oasis
by Katie Elevitch • Brooklyn

You are not what I thought you would be.
I don’t find an oasis in you.
In fact, I feel myself undoing
around you.
It is when I ‘m alone, in my
new sunny apartment,
with tea on the stove and my eye on the horizon,
that I feel paradise.