Today, I am delighted to feature poet and author Harmony Kent as my guest for Treasuring Poetry. I have read one of Harmony’s fictional books and her non-fiction book, Creative Solutions for the Modern Writer: Inspirational Tools to Fire Your Imagination, and they are both excellent. I have read and reviewed her poetry book, Slices of Soul: A Collection of Contemporary Poetry.
Welcome Harmony!
Which of your own poems is your favourite?
VOYAGE
Into the unknown we go
riding the ocean breeze
tacking this way and that
not too concerned with the far horizon
At peace, keeping an eye on the waves
that toss us about now and then
sailing through bright day
and deep dark night
It matters not
what tempest may come
we will weather the storms together
while we wend our way
We’ve lain our course
taken our soundings
and with love at the helm
we’ll keep a steady pace
Call it what you will
scow, skiff, sloop, hulk, schooner, bucket
so long as we caulk the boards and set the stays
we shall not founder
There’s no glory like it
in the heavens or on the Earth
than sailing free into the fire
of the sun as it sets into the glistening sea
What inspired you to write this particular poem?
When I met the love of my life, right away, we both went through some tough personal times. Those hardships brought us closer, and we’ve now been married for two years.
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy writing the most and why?
Some form of Haiku, because it forces me write with brevity and choose my words with utmost care.
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy reading the most?
As with my writing, my reading is eclectic. I enjoy a broad range of styles and genres.
What is your favourite poem?
Auguries of Innocence by William Blake
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour
A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage
A Dove house filled with Doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell through all its regions
A dog starved at his Masters Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State
A Horse misused upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear
A Skylark wounded in the wing
A Cherubim does cease to sing
The Game Cock clipped & armed for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright
Every Wolfs & Lions howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul
The wild deer, wandering here & there
Keeps the Human Soul from Care
The Lamb misused breeds Public Strife
And yet forgives the Butchers knife
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that wont Believe
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbelievers fright
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be beloved by Men
He who the Ox to wrath has moved
Shall never be by Woman loved
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spiders enmity
He who torments the Chafers Sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night
The Caterpillar on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar
The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat
The Gnat that sings his Summers Song
Poison gets from Slanders tongue
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envy’s Foot
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artists Jealousy
The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags
Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags
A Truth that’s told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent
It is right it should be so
Man was made for Joy & Woe
And when this we rightly know
Through the World we safely go
Joy & Woe are woven fine
A Clothing for the soul divine
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine
The Babe is more than swaddling Bands
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made & Born were hands
Every Farmer Understands
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity
This is caught by Females bright
And returned to its own delight
The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar
Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of Death
The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air
Does to Rags the Heavens tear
The Soldier armed with Sword & Gun
Palsied strikes the Summers Sun
The poor Man’s Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Africs Shore
One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands
Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole Nation sell & buy
He who mocks the Infants Faith
Shall be mocked in Age & Death
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall neer get out
He who respects the Infants faith
Triumphs over Hell & Death
The Childs Toys & the Old Man’s Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons
The Questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to Reply
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesars Laurel Crown
Nought can Deform the Human Race
Like to the Armours iron brace
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow
A Riddle or the Crickets Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply
The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will ne’er Believe do what you Please
If the Sun & Moon should Doubt
They’d immediately Go out
To be in a Passion you Good may Do
But no Good if a Passion is in you
The Whore & Gambler by the State
Licenced build that Nations Fate
The Harlots cry from Street to Street
Shall weave Old England’s winding Sheet
The Winners Shout the Losers Curse
Dance before dead England’s Hearse
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in Night
But does a Human Form Display To those who Dwell in Realms of day
Slices of Soul: A Collection of Contemporary Poetry
What Amazon says
Slices of Soul is a collection of contemporary poetry from author Harmony Kent that will both delight and call for deeper reflection. ‘Phantoms’ gives a gritty account of pain that you can never catch. ‘Enough’ expresses the contentment of Zen. ‘Diamonds’ shows the beauty to be found on a drab and rainy day. While ‘The Alchemist’ shows you how a guitar can turn lead into gold. This wonderful arrangement of fifty poems takes you from the abstract of Zen to the melody of music, and will reach into your mind, your heart, and your soul.
My review
Slices of Soul is a compelling and unusual collection of poetry which certainly does give the reader glimpses into the complex soul and unusual life of the poet.
I think it is important to note that the poet spent 13 years living in a Zen Buddhist Temple and that the poems featured in this book were written, during and after this period in her life. I believe that her spiritualism and surroundings had a bearing on the thoughts and ideas expressed through the poems in this book.
The poems are divided into sections: Shaved Head, written during her time at the Zen Buddhist Temple, Short Hair, written during the transitional period of her changing life circumstances, and Long Hair which effectively covers all the remaining sections in the book and were written after she’d adjusted to her new life.
I felt the tone of the poems changed over the course of the book from intense reflections on life, to studies of nature, to fierce expressions of emotion, to gentler articulations of love and contentment.
The two poems that impacted me the most in this collection are from the first two sections of the book, Shaved Hair and Short Hair:
The Path The ten directions all merge into one this winding road leads nowhere and goes straight there
Lost and Found Deep dark depths I got lost on purpose this desolate place the only way to get my bearings
Poetry lovers who like poems that make you think about things and see them differently will appreciate this book.
As well as being an avid reader and writer, Harmony also offers reviews and supports her fellow authors. Harmony works hard to promote and protect high standards within the publishing arena. She is always on the look out for talent and excellence, and will freely promote any authors or books who she feels have these attributes. Harmony lives in Cornwall, England.
Robbie Cheadle is a South African children’s author and poet with 9 children’s books and 1 poetry book.
The 7 Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie has also published 2 books for older children which incorporate recipes that are relevant to the storylines.
Robbie has 2 adult novels in the paranormal historical and supernatural fantasy genres published under the name Roberta Eaton Cheadle. She also has short stories in the horror and paranormal genre and poems included in several anthologies.
Robbie writes a monthly series for https://writingtoberead.com called Growing Bookworms. This series discusses different topics relating to the benefits of reading to children.
Want to be sure not to miss any of Robbie’s “Treasuring Poetry” segments? Subscribe to Writing to be Read for e-mail notifications whenever new content is posted or follow WtbR on WordPress.
Day 4 of the WordCrafter Behind Closed Doors Book Blog Tour finds us over at Miriam Hurdle’s Showers of Blessings blog site with a guest post by author and poet Robbie Cheadle and a lovely review of Robbie’s latest book, Behind Closed Doors, a collection of unusual poetry. Drop in and learn more about this fascinating poetry collection and its author.
Today, I am delighted to host artist, poet and author, Leon Stevens.
Which of your own poems is your favourite?
Wow. Starting off with the hardest question…I have written about many aspects of my existence, but I think some of the poems about ego and human nature are my attempt at understanding why people act the way they do. I still don’t get why some people are jerks.
Ego (Part II)
An ego is a big cat
That needs to be stroked
By you or someone else
Smaller cats are easy to please
And the bigger the cat
The more dangerous it is
To rub the wrong way
What inspired you to write this particular poem?
I wrote a series of poems about ego after spending some time observing how people interact with each other as individuals jockey for position within a group. While they do that, they seek affirmation to justify their perception of themselves. There are positives to egos, but if an ego is too aggressive, it can leave you rolling your eyes and shaking your head.
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy writing the most and why?
I don’t set out to write any particular form of poetry. Usually, as the words come to me, they will dictate how the poem will manifest itself. This leads to some erratic rhyming and rhythmic patterns, but often I find that a well-placed, unexpected rhyme can have a powerful effect.
My poems tend to be short—no more than a page—often 4-6 lines. They are like a snapshot of a moment or experience rather than a slideshow or movie.
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy reading the most?
I honestly do not read a lot of poetry. Maybe it is a way not to be influenced, which I hope makes my own poetry unique. I do follow many blogs that feature poetry, so most of what I do read comes from those sites.
I grew up with my father reading the poems of Robert Service. The Cremation of Sam McGee Is one that has always stuck with me (Dad had it memorized along with many others). It is a tale set during the Klondike gold rush which has a humorous, macabre twist.
The Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows. Why he left his home in the South to roam ’round the Pole, God only knows. He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell; Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail. Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail. If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see; It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow, And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe, He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess; And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan: “It’s the cursèd cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone. Yet ’tain’t being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains; So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”
A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail; And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale. He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee; And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven, With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given; It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains, But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code. In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load. In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring, Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow; And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low; The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in; And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay; It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.” And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum; Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire; Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher; The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see; And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so; And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow. It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why; And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear; But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near; I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside. I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked”; … then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar; And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door. It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm— Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
Book review: Lines by Leon: Poems, Prose, and Pictures
My review
Every now and then you discover a book of poetry which has you nodding your head in agreement and identifying with the views of the poet. For me, this was one of those books. Leon Stevens has an unerring way of aiming a poetic arrow straight at the heart of a difficult issue and exposing it for exactly what it is. This exposure is done with great dry wit, but it is nevertheless, brutally honest and truthful.
The poems in this book cover an array of topics including, inter alia, the poets personal viewpoints on specific matters, environmental experiences, the human conditions and how we relate with others, people and places, and ponderance and muse. There is a sprinkling of the poet’s own sketches throughout the book, and these, complement the humour and the simple, straightforward messages woven into these compelling poems.
This poem, called The Tendency to Cluster, was my personal favourite in this collection and demonstrates the points I’ve mentioned above:
People like orbs Drawn by gravity Unable to exist alone Each dependent on the orbits of others The only thing that keeps them From being flung away Needing others to define them Needing to know The quantum state of others There are people Content with singularity In the colder outer regions Emptiness brings strength, warmth, life Occasional objects pass Piquing curiosity Worthy to share space (for a while) Mostly continuing alone Comfortable that orbits won’t decay
If you enjoy poems that speak clearly and simply about important matters, then you will enjoy this collection. Even if you don’t share the poet’s viewpoint, these poems will still make you think deeply.
Purchase Lines by Leon: Poems, Prose, and Pictures
Leon Stevens is a writer, composer, guitarist, songwriter, and an artist, with a Bachelor of Music and Education. He became a writer out of necessity. Along with song writing, poetry has allowed him to make sense and accept events and situations in his life. He published his first book of poetry: Lines by Leon – Poems, Prose, and Pictures in January 2020, a book of original classical guitar compositions, and a collection of science fiction short stories called The Knot at the End of the Rope and other Short Stories. Visit www.linesbyleon.com for free sample eBooks.
In Mudflap, by Jay Alden Bailey the character’s name isn’t really Mudflap, but that is the name he identifies with because life always seems to be throwing him under the bus. We’ve all been there, so the character concept is easy to identify with. Every time Mudflap gets up, life knocks him back down again. But he just keeps getting back up again, even starting over from step one when necessary. This story makes a suttle social commentary as Mudflap’s tale unravels that readers with a keen eye will be sure to pick up on.
Sharing in the life and experiences of Mudflap makes one appreciate the circumstances in one’s own life more. If you need cheering up or are just looking for a chuckle, this story is for you. I give Mudflap four quills.
Kaye Lynne Booth does honest book reviews on Writing to be Read in exchange for ARCs. Have a book you’d like reviewed? Contact Kaye at kayebooth(at)yahoo(dot)com.
In Watching Glass Shatter, by James J. Cudney, secrets threaten to destroy a family and a legacy with the solidest of foundations. Olivia is a staunch matriarch who controls with an iron fist, or so some have said. When her husband Ben dies in a car crash, she is forced to take a close look at herself as she struggles to deal with the huge secret that he kept from her in what she thought was an open and honest marraige. Once it is dropped in her lap, she must decide how to handle this new knowledge that has the potential to rip apart the life of one of her five sons and change their familial relationships forever.
Olivia decides to spend some time with each of them before making her final decision, but the closer she gets to her sons the more secrets she learns that her family is harboring from one another, each with the potential to destroy family bonds and crumble all they have worked for. This family drama would be worthy of a television soap-opera series, such as Dynasty or Dallas.
The Glass family is well off, having built up a successful law firm which was to be the family business. Although the story is well-written, it seemed to me that things seemed to resolve a little too easily to be fully believable to me. It is a very different world in which I live, but maybe money does bring with it the solutions to many of life’s difficulties more easily. I give Watching Glass Shatter four quills.
Kaye Lynne Booth does honest book reviews on Writing to be Read in exchange for ARCs. Have a book you’d like reviewed? Contact Kaye at kayebooth(at)yahoo(dot)com.
For Eddie Reyes and his friend Maryellen, dreams are much more than that. Dreams are an avenue for learning. Dreams are a means of breaking through to parallel worlds and making connections with their friends, Africa Lee and Rafferty. Dreams are a way to control people and a weapon which causes madness. To those who don’t know, it sounds like a cool superpower, but it’s one that carries a heavy price.
For Eddie, it’s the only way to hunt down the Jaguar to save their friends and the rest of the Roam from the persecution of the jaguar priests. But the Jaguar has reached Maryellen’s father through his dreams in this world and he’s intent on keeping she and Eddie apart at all costs.
Can Maryellen and Eddie escape her father and the other traps set on this side by the Jaguar long enough to hunt the him down in his own dreams before he destroys the Roam, and both worlds in the bargain?
My Review
Although Bill Ransom’s Jaguar unfolds the story slowly and it takes a little while to put the puzzle pieces together to form an idea of how the characters are connected and how they fit within the full picture of the story, it is just odd enough to keep your curiosity raised and keep you reading long enough to see it all come together. And by then, you’re hooked. You have to keep reading to find out how it all turns out. You can’t put it down. And it’s a good thing, because if you don’t read through to the end, you will miss the big reveal that changes the game and raises the stake even higher for Eddie.
A well-crafted psychological thriller that will keep you riveted to your seat. I give Jaguar four quills.
Kaye Lynne Booth does honest book reviews on Writing to be Read in exchange for ARCs. Have a book you’d like reviewed? Contact Kaye at kayebooth(at)yahoo(dot)com.
Today, I am delighted to host poet and author Miriam Hurdle for the July edition of Treasuring Poetry.
Welcome Miriam Hurdle
Hi Robbie,
I’m delighted to be your guest on Writing to be Read to talk about poetry.
Which of your own poems is your favourite
Among the published poems in Songs of Heartstrings: Poems of Gratitude and Beatitude, several poems are my favorites in equal measure for different reasons. One is in the section of Songs of Marriage, one in Songs of Tribute, and one in Songs of Inspiration.
The time I wrote this post, my heart turns to the poem “Healthy Grieving” in the section of Songs of Tribute.
Healthy Grieving
Randy and my husband were true friends.
No appointment needed for
a barbeque, a movie or a game, just
knocked on each other’s door.
The conversation could go anywhere,
no worry about apologies.
When one needed a helping hand,
the other one is always there.
Twelve years was a long time,
such true friendship rarely came by.
People say, “Big boys don’t cry.”
I don’t know why.
Boys have emotion, as we all do.
My husband had never cried,
not until after Randy died.
What inspired you to write this particular poem?
There is a narrative precedes the poem. I wrote the poem to pay tribute to our neighbor, my husband’s best friend who died of a mountain bike accident. Here is the excerpt.
I remember on January 3, 2016. Randy joined us to celebrate my husband’s birthday. We had lunch and saw Star Wars at Irvine Spectrum. It was on Saturday.
The following Sunday, eight days later, his relative came over to tell us that Randy had a mountain bike accident. He and a gym buddy ventured on a long mountain bike ride. The bike hit a vast gap and made a somersault flip. He got thrown off the bike, fell forward and hit the ground, and smashed his head and face.
They rushed him to the close by emergency room but pronounced him dead as soon as the ambulance reached the hospital.
Randy was our neighbor who lived two doors down the street. He was my husband’s best friend for twelve years, ever since he came back to live with his parents. They worked out at the gym together. They enjoyed the Friday movie and pizza day for a while.
After my husband got a mountain bike, he also got one. They biked on the trails in the city. On special occasions, a barbecue dinner was in order. He came over to our house for game nights regularly. A year before he passed away, they switched to another restaurant to hang out in the bar, and I became their designated driver.
Randy was a lighthearted guy, a wonderful friend, a caring son. We missed him very much.
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy writing the most and why?
Whereas a “form” defines the way a poem arranges sounds, rhythms, or its appearance on the page, “genre” is something like the poem’s style. Many poetic genres have a long history, and new poems almost always seek to explore a new aspect of the traditional style and thus to redefine the genre.
Traditionally, there are nine genres of poetry. Three of them remain in the newer inclusion of poetry genres. They are narrative poetry which tells a story, lyric poetry which is musical in tone, and dramatic poetry which is a long dramatic monologue or persona poem.
I would say I enjoy writing narrative poetry genre. Regardless of the poetry forms, I like to write poems that tell the stories. The poem I included above is a good example in which I shared the story of the friendship between my husband and Randy.
As far as poetry form, I enjoy writing free verse which is free of rules and regulations. It doesn’t follow a consistent rhyme scheme, meter or musical structure. For the fun of learning, I also write blank verse which follows a stricter structure with precise meter. In addition to Haiku, Tanka, I have written a Shakespearean Sonnet, a Pantoum, several acrostic poems, two Villanelle, and one one-syllable poem (all the words used in the entire poem are single syllable words).
Which genre of poetry do you enjoy reading the most?
I enjoy reading narrative and lyric poetry including poetic song lyric. One example of narrative poetry is a poem by the American Poet Linda Pastan in which she tells a story about her daughter.
To a daughter leaving home
When I taught you
at eight to ride
a bicycle, loping along
beside you
as you wobbled away
on two round wheels,
my own mouth rounding
in surprise when you pulled
ahead down the curved
path of the park,
I kept waiting
for the thud
of your crash as I
sprinted to catch up,
while you grew
smaller, more breakable
with distance,
pumping, pumping
for your life, screaming
with laughter,
the hair flapping
behind you like a
handkerchief waving
goodbye.
This poem is about the poet teaching her daughter to ride a bicycle. The title suggests that her daughter is now old enough to leave home. Pastan cleverly extends the metaphor of the bike as part of life’s journey. When I read this poem, I identify with the poet the joy of parenthood, with the sentiment of missing my daughter when she grew up and has gone on to her own journey.
I can’t talk about poetry without talking about music. I’m a singer of classical, traditional, and some older pop music and memorized many song lyrics for solo performances. The poetic song lyrics influence the flow of my poetry writing.
Examples of poetic song lyrics are, “Yesterday” by the Beatles, “Memory” from the Musical Cats written by Trevor Nunn, and “Killing Me Softly” written by Norman Gimbel & Charles Fox.
What is your favourite poem?
My favorite poem is a popular one by Robert Frost. Its signature phrases have become so ubiquitous, so much a part of the individual life and business alike. I like it because of its message applicable in my life.
I have come to crossroads many points in my journey. As reflected by Frost, I couldn’t take “both,” tried to look down both paths “as far as I could.” Many times, they both were “equally” “fair” but no guarantee. Ultimately, it was my decision that “made all the difference.” Knowing that I would never “come back,”, I willingly took the responsibility for the road I chose to travel with no regret.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence:Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
I would like to include the trailer for Songs of Heartstring created by Diana W. Peach at https://mythsofthemirror.com
Miriam Hurdle is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI). She published four children’s books at twenty-six years old. Her poetry collection received the Solo “Medalist Winner” for the New Apple Summer eBook Award and achieved bestseller status on Amazon.
Miriam writes poetry, short stories, memoir, and children’s books. She earned a Doctor of Education from the University of La Verne in California. After two years of rehabilitation counseling, fifteen years of public-school teaching and ten years in school district administration, she retired and enjoys life with her husband in southern California, and the visits to her daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughters in Oregon. When not writing, she engages in blogging, gardening, photography, and traveling.
My review of Songs of Heartstrings: Poems of Gratitude and Beatitude
Songs of Heartstrings is a collection of poems and essays featuring the vast array of life experiences by the author. Miriam Hurdle has encountered both the best and the worst of life through the death of her husband’s close friend, her own treatment for cancer, the birth of her daughter and the close relationship of her parents. Her wonderful joy in life and strong faith in her religion shine through in her poetry and give a lot of insight into her strong spirit and ability to stay positive despite the curve balls life has thrown her way.
This book also demonstrates Miriam’s love of nature and features poems about her garden, a hummingbird and even a spider. Her photographs and pictures are lovely and compliment the prose.
My review of Tina Lost in a Crowd
Tina Lost in a Crowd is a charming book for children about two young school friends who attend a busy concert with Tina’s parents and get lost on their way to the restroom.
I enjoyed the character of Tina, a lovely and friendly girl who demonstrated politeness and respect towards both her teacher and her parents as well as consideration towards her friend. She has sufficient presence of mind not to panic in the scary situation of being lost in a big crowd.
The depiction of Tina’s family life and her mother’s interest in her and eagerness to plan some fun family outings for the summer vacation are heart warming and lovely to see in a children’s book. I liked the fact that Tina’s mother made a picnic for her family and Tina’s friend, Erica, to enjoy at the concert with good, wholesome food.
The illustrations in this book are a real treat and every page is a visual delight. I would recommend this book to parents and caregivers who like books that encourage good family values and level headedness by children in difficult situations.
About Robbie Cheadle
Robbie Cheadle is a South African children’s author and poet with 9 children’s books and 1 poetry book.
The 7 Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie has also published 2 books for older children which incorporate recipes that are relevant to the storylines.
Robbie has 2 adult novels in the paranormal historical and supernatural fantasy genres published under the name Roberta Eaton Cheadle. She also has short stories in the horror and paranormal genre and poems included in several anthologies.
Robbie writes a monthly series for https://writingtoberead.com called Growing Bookworms. This series discusses different topics relating to the benefits of reading to children.
Want to be sure not to miss any of Robbie’s “Treasuring Poetry” segments? Subscribe to Writing to be Read for e-mail notifications whenever new content is posted or follow WtbR on WordPress.
Thanks for joining us on Day 3 of the WordCrafterIn the Silence of Words Book Blog Tour and my review of this thought provoking play. You can catch my interview with the creative mind of author Cendrine Marrouat for Day 1 here, on Writing to be Read, and Day 2 brought a guest post from the author on Robbie’s Inspiration about writing a play as a poet. Days 4 & 5 will also be guest posts, one on Roberta Writes, and then Zigler’s News will be finishing off the tour for us.
My Review
In the Silence of Words is a play which says much in what is left unsaid. The three dots… of more to come are left hanging time and again with unfinished thoughts that the reader is left to fill in on their own. But I think that is the point, because there is so much meaning in that which is left unspoken.
Through unspoken words, this play tackles several real life issues in a relatable manner that will touch readers, (or viewers), hearts – loss, self-sacrifice, searching for the self – these are life issues most of us have dealt with at one time or another in our own lives, giving rise to many opportunities for those “A-ha!” moments, when we can truly relate with Marrouat’s characters.
This play is well-crafted, with a thought provoking plot and relatable characters which move the story forward. I give In the Silence of Words five quills.
When I Was You, is a well-crafted thriller by Minka Kent that will keep readers guessing to the very end. This story has all the twists and turns of a good thriller, and just when you think you know what is going on, the plot doubles back for you to realize how wrong you were. I’m not sure how to review this book without giving away spoilers, because it does keep you guessing.
Brienne Dougray was attacked and robbed, putting a jolt in her self-confidence, making her feel afraid and vulnerable. To make matters worse, all of her friends have turned their backs on her and she has no idea why. It seems the only one she can rely on is Niall, a busy oncologist who is her tennant, whom she is developing feelings for. She begins to feel as if her life is not really her own when she learns there is another woman who is living her identity and Niall may not be the man she thought he was. These odd occurances have her doubting her sanity and she has to wonder if she really knows who she is. To solve the mystery of what is really going, is the only way to figure out who she really is and get her true life back.
Suspense and mystery keeps the pages turning in this well-crafted thriller. I give When I Was You five quills.
Kaye Lynne Booth does honest book reviews on Writing to be Read in exchange for ARCs. Have a book you’d like reviewed? Contact Kaye at kayebooth(at)yahoo(dot)com.
Put Off My Sackcloth Essays, by Annie Dawid provides open and honest glimpses into the life of a single daughter of a Jewish immigrant, who chooses to settle, eventually, in a small mountain community, where she lives off-grid with her mixed lineage son. Dawid’s essays are a brutally honest portrayal of her journey out of a history of suicidal depression and into motherhood.
The fact that the organization is not chronological, may make it more difficult for readers who are used to following a linear storyline, but her essays intermix recountings from her own life experiences with reflections on her research of the 1978 mass suicides in Jonestown, in a mosaic of small pieces that fit together to create a complete story, out of despair and into hope. These powerful essays are at times heart wrenching, at times evoking a smile, but they all reach out and touch the reader from the depths of the author’s soul.
Amazed by Dawid’s inner strength to battle her own demons, these soul revealing essays outline a journey from a life teetering on the edge of death into one filled with life and love. I give Put Off My Sackcloth Essays five quills.
Kaye Lynne Booth does honest book reviews on Writing to be Read in exchange for ARCs. Have a book you’d like reviewed? Contact Kaye at kayebooth(at)yahoo(dot)com.
Book Review: Mudflap – A character concept many of us can identify with
Posted: August 9, 2021 | Author: kayelynnebooth | Filed under: Book Review, Books, Fiction, satire | Tags: Book Review, Jay Alden Bailey, Mudflap, satire, Social Commentary, Writing to be Read | 4 CommentsIn Mudflap, by Jay Alden Bailey the character’s name isn’t really Mudflap, but that is the name he identifies with because life always seems to be throwing him under the bus. We’ve all been there, so the character concept is easy to identify with. Every time Mudflap gets up, life knocks him back down again. But he just keeps getting back up again, even starting over from step one when necessary. This story makes a suttle social commentary as Mudflap’s tale unravels that readers with a keen eye will be sure to pick up on.
Sharing in the life and experiences of Mudflap makes one appreciate the circumstances in one’s own life more. If you need cheering up or are just looking for a chuckle, this story is for you. I give Mudflap four quills.
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Kaye Lynne Booth does honest book reviews on Writing to be Read in exchange for ARCs. Have a book you’d like reviewed? Contact Kaye at kayebooth(at)yahoo(dot)com.
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