The Poet Community

All Those Chairs in the Field | A Poem by Linda Imbler

Rapturous orchestral maneuvers
performed by bees and butterflies.
One to each symphonic chair,
they sit upon these colorful structures,
measuring each refrain
with the beating of wings.
I lie at the edge,
enchanted by this euphoric ensemble
that plays out the course of life
while perched upon nature’s own
soft seats.

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Linda Imbler is the author of the published poetry collection “Big Questions, Little Sleep.” Her work has appeared in numerous journals. Linda’s creative process and a current, complete listing of sites which have or will publish her work can be found at This writer, yoga practitioner, and classical guitar player lives in Wichita, Kansas.

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Tinge of Winter | A Poem by Ken Allan Dronsfield

The old barn moans and groans
as bones creak on this coolish day.

Stepping outside into fields of corn
I watch the winds conspire with
the grass to tickle the setting sun.

From a dark cloud drifting above,
a lone snowflake floats down and
stings the tip of my cold red nose.

I express a tinge of sadness as
my summer dream drifts away.

Twilight time chases the day away
near the dead crab apple trees on
the old farm where I once roamed.

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Sunday Fodder | A Poem by Ken Allan Dronsfield

Another boring Sunday has arrived;
waking up with bed head and yawns
coffee and a bowl of fruit loops cereal
Sunday paper is three inches thick
the only thing worthwhile reading is
the Doonesbury cartoon segment.
Cat wants in and the dog wants out.
Take out a frozen block of something
will fire up the grill for dinner tonight.
I read a bit of the front page and find
inhales not here nor there but where
heartbeat quickens ravage souls afire.
The depravity towards all of humanity
desecrating a poverty of pious wealth.
Temptation bows only to those with
an inner strength of stainless karma.
On this rainy, cold Sunday morning
life begets tears of a soulless fodder.