We Will Not Wander More – Louise Wilford


We will not wander more. No lotus-blossom keeps

us in our seats, but just the glitter on the wall that seeps


into our souls. We love the soothing lullabies of lies

and loss that roll like waves of smoke across our eyes.


These padded gondolas will rest our limbs. Our long

hallucinations glow like pearls. Here sounds our final song. 


The dying skeletons of ships float by above,

but here we rest, below – bereft of love.


The sob of marriage split, of love betrayed,

of feuds and frauds and factions – all displayed


in widescreen, stretching thought just broad and high

enough for skimpy hearts and those who’re wide of eye.



unnamed (2)Yorkshirewoman Louise Wilford is an English teacher and examiner. She has had around 60 poems and short stories published in magazines including Popshot, Pushing Out The Boat and Agenda, and has won or been shortlisted for several competitions. She is currently writing a children’s fantasy novel.


Last One – Rachel Lewis


The sun had almost given out that day

I went out late, after the sun had almost

Left us all behind.


The first thing I saw was the birch tree,

That had turned such a shade of yellow

As I’d never seen.


It was brighter and purer somehow than any green,

And the colour ran sharp through me, set me

Crying as I walked.


Blackberries were pouring down. The grass

Was dying in the last of the wintry light.

The streetlight glow began.


Willows by the river, and the plane trees,

All said “I know” whenever the wind filled

Their echo chambers.


Ducks and geese and magpies live here,

Resourcefully around our houses.

Swans, blackbirds as well.


I swung on the kissing gate and realised

I don’t know whether he’s for real, or if he’ll

Ever come back here.



Rachel headshot portraitRachel is a London-based poet. She was previously a poetry editor for the Mays Anthology and a Young Producer with Poet in the City. Her poetry can also be found on the Poetry Society website, in the Dawntreader and Kindling journals, and unpredictably at live events around London.

A Black Forest Sojourn – William Ruleman


(Breitenberg, Neuweiler-Hofstett, Germany, 2010)


Shaggy firs, like long-lost friends,

Shelter me from pelting rain;

Birches shivering in chill winds

Numb me to my own dumb pain,


While purple clover, fresh-mown hay,

Apple trees that bow with red-

Gold suns for yet another day,

Lull me to an early bed.


I wake at dawn and long for home.

The room is plain; the sky, although

A glad blue, gleams with alien glow,

As cold to human sight as chrome.


Yet when my Heimweh shows no cease,

I head to the woods and find a strange peace.



Bio pic 3William Ruleman’s most recent collections of poetry include From Rage to Hope (White Violet Books, 2016) and Salzkammergut Poems and Munich Poems (both from Cedar Springs Books, 2016). His translations of Hermann Hesse’s Early Poems (also Cedar Springs Books) and Stefan Zweig’s Clarissa (Ariadne Press) were published in 2017. More about him can be found at his website: www.williamruleman.com.

Sun against Moonspill – Hannah Downs


the kind of dream

surprised me.


the bruises



r e a l f a k e


(lost in questioning.)


thatsnotmyarm anditsnotyours






all light



into gone glow.




the lamp posts

drifting out of sight(.)


clouds of

atmosphere below.



everything white.


She smile/laughs



into ruin





moon still.



image1Hannah is a student nurse at the University of Manchester who adores reading, writing and all other creative pursuits. She has previously self published a chapbook collection called Driftlight, and had their poem “Smile(.)” selected for Editor’s choice in the online magazine Under the Fable.

Vacation Is Beginning – James G. Piatt


Vacation is beginning.

The dim glow of the early morning sun is

Crawling through the cracks in a rustic

Rented cabin showering the rooms with

A soft tempo of light. The night crickets

Have stopped chirping and the frogs

Have finished their nightly chorus, of

Croaking chords.


The dew is melting on the grass, and

The faces of the wild Lilies in the leas

Are opening up to view the rays of the

Sun. The coyotes have escaped to their

Day lairs, and the deer are hiding deep

In the bushes.


The children are waking late in the

Morning to the aroma of pancakes; and

Eggs and bacon in the kitchen, for

School buses and learning have

Departed for the summer.


The dawn’s early sun is beginning its

Daily tour of the cabin’s garden and the

Raspberry vines in the old orchard; and

An old stripped cat is sneaking into the

Field to find its morning mouse.


Bio pic 2James, a retired professor and octogenarian, is a Pushcart and Best of Web nominee, and his poems were selected for inclusion in The 100 Best Poems of 2016, 2015 & 2014 Anthologies, and the 2017 Poet’s Showcase and Yearbook. He has published 3 collections of poetry, “The Silent Pond” (2012), “Ancient Rhythms” (2014), and “LIGHT” (2016), and 1000 poems, in such magazines as Miller’s Pond, American Aesthetic, Gold Dust Poetry, Scarlet Leaf, The Linnet’s Wings and over 120 others. His fourth collection of poetry will be released this year. He earned his BS and MA from California State Polytechnic University, and his doctorate from BYU.

Spanish lace – Ann Christine Tabaka


Bare tree branches

Intricately intertwined

Giving the illusion of black Spanish lace

Reaching out

Across an angry sky

The fiery glow of sunset

Darkened by purple clouds

Accentuating the effect

Seductively drawing me in

Capturing me

In a mysterious web of imagination

Filling me

With awe


13221756_10206392177779458_3188055745494222119_nAnn Christine Tabaka is better known by her middle name, Chris. She has been writing poems and rhymes since she was fourteen. She was an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. Her poems are in the Contemporary Group’s anthology “Dandelion in a Vase of Roses,” and the poetry journals “Whispers,” “The Society of Classical Poets,” “Indiana Voice Journal,” “Halcyon Days Magazine,” and “Scarlet Leaf Review.”

Two poems of hope – Danny P. Barbare


Good Days





The Better of a Rainy Day





Danny P. Barbare resides in the Upstate of the Carolinas. He has been published in Birmingham Arts Journal and Stone Coast Review. He lives with his wife and family and small dog Miley.