Poetry has no respect, and this is a shame. Fine poetry is like fine wine; it grows on you. Poetry condenses experiences that do not shape easily to vision and is made visible to the soul that seeks them. Here is a small taste.

Misguided
Through decay of years
you have seen us
depart from your haven
washing our youthful hands of you

The above is only the first stanza, but can you see the image? How many of us have done this to our parents, in particular our mothers, as we left them to go out on our own. How many of us parents experience the same thing in reverse with our own brood? Four lines of words that express so elegantly that entire moment when the child leaves. The rest is on Page 25. I will let you find it yourself.

Ah, Love. How does one describe it? In a multitude of ways, of course. Love means something different to each individual. It cannot be categorized in a general sense. It must be free to take the form best suited to each person who finds themselves falling into… well, Love. Love An Anthology gives a wide selection of situations and characters, from the first love to the true love to the love found later in life. It is a smorgasbord from which one may pick and choose the pleasing delicacies to tantalize the senses and leave one satisfied, with many other treats for a later snack.

Poetry has long been given a short drift. This, of course, is not news to anyone who loves or writes poetry. But what many people may not realize is that not all poems chant, or rap, or even drone dry sounding words. Epics and other stories from ancient times were forms of poetry or verse. This is because it is easier in the oral tradition to remember the story to pass down from one person to another, if there was some rhythm or beat to it. So here is a set of short poems that honor the roots they came from. And there is not a dull line in the bunch.

It is always nice to discover young poems from fresh voices, taking the risk to put them self out in the public eye. Especially from an author who has taken the time to know poetry enough to not just write lines of whine and shock words not normally used in polite society.

Jennifer Miller's Every Waking Moment uses images in nice ways. One of my favorites is the second stanza of "Tragedy and Sorrow, Rapture and Light".