Mark Hudson ...6

Emiliano Martin...3

Jacqueline Moffett...9

Prabha Nayak Prabhu

Susanna Roma...11

Constance Trump...7

Lucille Morgan Wilson...13

Maureen Applegate...8

Michael Bourgo...10

Selma Calnan...12

Gail Denham...14

Marilyn Downing...2

Lynn Fetterolf...5

Ann Gasser...4

(Poems by PPS members —Electronically-shared)copyrighted by authors

28 lines or less, formatted and illustrated by Ann Gasser with digital paintings, digital collages,

and other shared images.unless stated otherwisePPS members are invited to submit.

Deadline for receiving—1st of each month, poems appearing in order receivedTarget date for sending out—10th of each month

“Pennessence”–“Pennessence”–“Pennessence”–“Pennessence”– The Essence of PPS,The Essence of PPS,The Essence of PPS,The Essence of PPS, (Pennsylvania Poetry Society, Inc.) (Pennsylvania Poetry Society, Inc.) (Pennsylvania Poetry Society, Inc.) (Pennsylvania Poetry Society, Inc.)

July2012012012018888

1.

2.

GETTYSBURG VISITED BY THE ANGEL OF DEATH

—by Marilyn Downing

Imagine a quiet town of 2400 souls surrounded by

farmlands, woods, and gentle hills, with an orderly

square, shops, churches, a college, modest homes.

Imagine a July 3, 1963 morning with farmers tending livestock,

milking cows, women in kitchens baking the daily bread,

preparing for routines of family life.

Imagine three days of wartime hell, North and South armies

ebbing back and forth, pausing at night to regroup,

to resume the frightful fray each dawn.

Imagine the aftermath, living burying dead, tending wounded,

disease and death continuing for weeks to come, claiming

53,000 souls, North and South.

Let us remember in Abraham Lincoln’s immortal words:

These dead shall not have died in vain… that this nation under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that the government of the people, by the people and for the people shall not perish from the earth.

3.

OFTEN

—by Emiliano Martin

We often can be the shadow

between the dream

and the actual

behavior of ourselves.

We can also be forgotten

in the midst making us feel

right or wrong…but never free.

Even pretending to hide

behind masquerading verses

snsitive to our will.

4.

NATURE’S THERAPY

—by Ann Gasser

Wrap me in wonder of lush meadow grass

and sun-sparkled ripples as soft breezes pass.

Wrap me in wonder of gold daffodils,

and the misty blue sadness of far hump-backed hills.

Wrap me in wonder of pink flowering trees,

dilligent ants and invincible bees.

Wrap me in wonder of azure blue sky

as I glory in fleets of cloud-ships sailing by.

Wrap me in wonder of sweet chirping birds

and the deep forest’s symphony—sung without words.

Wrap me in wonder of mountains that rise

in glory to form a feast for my eyes.

Wrap my ears in the sweet lullabye of the sea

as it echoes the bliss of Eternity—

For a while then, all Earth’s thorny problems will cease,

as I am wrapped gently in Nature’s peace.

inspired by radio program“Jack’s Backyard” on Saturdaymornings 8:00 to 10:00(to tune in Google WEEU)

5.

I SAW MOURNING DOVES KISSING

—by Lynn Fetterolf

This morning I saw mourning doves kissing.

Unaware of my presence and watching eyes

they kissed and kissed,

heads bobbing to and fro,

necks entwining, beaks touching.

I felt so fortunate to be the voyeur

watching this wonderful display of love,

this tenderness so necessary to

each creature sharing this

incredible sphere called earth.

These doves return here

year after year but never before

have I been privileged

to witness their mating.

This is the greatest gift of Spring,

bringing me this magical moment.

6.

FOURTH OF JULY-

the good, the bad, and the ugly

—by Mark Hudson

The Fourth of July-the red, white, and blue,

some people might be happy, others sad.

You might be one of the sad ones, too.

Maybe the politicians make you mad.

I heard a lady say that it was true,

three deaths in the family made her feel bad.

Because of that, her depression grew.

For others, it is a day to be glad,

sleeping all day helps the body renew.

I hope that there is no foreign jihad,

We celebrate in peace, as war continues.

I wonder if the soldiers serving overseas,

think on this day of us who have ease.

7.

THE JAZZ AGE

—by Contance A. Trump

In nineteen hundred twenty eight,

though few are here who can now relate

how a candy pink confection arose

to strike the sugar sand beach a pose.

Set amidst lush, tropical flora

it lent a most attractive aura,

aqua waters flowed right by

beneath a blazing Florida sky

with marshmallow clouds that seemed to say,

“Leave cares behind, come along and play.”

They came by boat, by plane, by car

to revel in the Don Ce-Sar

where one can go enjoy today

the elegance of yesterday!

8.

THE LOTTERY

—by Maureen Applegate

She bought a ticket at the store and placed it on her shelf.

Never scratched the silver off revealing any wealth.

“It could be several thousand, or a million. Maybe more!

As long as it still sits there I imagine what’s in store!”

She’s cruising Grecian islands, she’s climbing Everest…

seen the birds of Paradise and found the condor’s nest…

gone swimming with the humpbacks and walked the Chinese wall.

As long as circles stay untouched she’s seen and done them all.

Then she changes bedclothes for the umpteenth time that day,

and fetches drinks of water as he slowly wastes away…

the lottery that called her keeping sorrow far at bay.

9.

WOMEN WHO INSPIRE

—by Jacqueline Moffettt

Several women inspired me

to stretch my mind and soul

do your best, advised Mother

I can ask no more of you

English teacher revealed the

beauty of our language

personal growth was weekly

enhanced by a caring librarian

inspirational hymns played by our

organist remain with me to this day

so many sisters to thank

for sharing their outlook,

their enthusiasm for life

and all it has to offer

blessings are enumerated as I

contemplate the passage of time

10.

MY LAST GARDEN

—by Michael Bourgo

“I want death to find me planting my cabbages, careless of death, and still more of my unfinished garden.” --- Michel de Montaigne, Essays (1580)

Well, sir, I have the honor of your name,

share your love for the garden,

and concur on final matters,

but I’d love to set the time,

aim for my last moments

in September or October.

I care as little as you

about this imminent departure:

it can come when it will,

but I would be most pleased

to leave some lettuce and squash

for those who survive—

good food (surely no small matter),

and a sliver of my faith—

in seeds, if nothing else.

from his book

Memories Past and Present copyright 2016

DREAMS ARE TRAPPED IN DAISIED FIELDS

—by Susanna Roma

It was a time of dreams, a simple life—

with daily chores accepted and performed

with no objection; a time of life's blossoming-

of youthful visions that filled the hours,

as I carried pails of water from the spring,

as I guided gentle “Bossy" to the pasture,

as I scampered through daisied fields

solemnly probing the petals for answers,

he loves me-he loves me not—

as I gathered wild berries from bog and

meadow, skipped past the spring-house,

up the hill where East and West winds met

and wrestled the tall, wild reedy grass,

Today, in the over-grown lane,

I press through a narrow path.

The cottage that enclosed my dreams is gone.

No buckets wait beside the stone spring-house,

covered with clinging sumac. The stalls inside

the sagging stable are empty. The unmown

fields are flecked with white and gold—the

daisies have remained but daisies long have

lost their magic. And still the wild winds sigh

above the lonely hills.

11.

from her book“THROUGH DAISIED FIELDS”available through lulu.com for $15.00

12.

PREDICTIONS OF OUR EXTINCTION

ATale of Two Birds— “Henny Penny” and Bryant's ”Water Fowl”

—by Selma Calnan

How do those spoilsports through the ages

earn a place among the sages?

They find their misanthropic jollies

in vast wastelands of Fate's follies.

There with Alice through the mirror,

they view life darkly, always drearier

by honing their predictive skills

to thwart their peers—folks of good will.

And quoting Mother Goose's tale—appalling

the hen who cried, "The sky is falling!"

Ignoring Bryant's bird in flight

'toward some safe haven out of sight.'

Forgetting in their dour discussion

poor Henny'd suffered a concussion.

from her book POEMS WORTH A SECOND LOOK

13

EVEN ICARUS FELL

—by Lucille Morgan Wilson

From opened chrysalis on new wings soaring

into a night that bears it swift away,

with species' instinct in a full outpouring,

the hapless moth unto the lamp falls prey.

At first caressed by warmth, like an adoring

novitiate it hovers; then the bay

of opaque shelter forms a glassy prison

from which but frenzied shadows have arisen.

Frail futile wings flail at the unseen walls

till, bit by bit reduced, the self succumbs.

Youth flies as well in answer to life's calls,

is sucked in by the downdrafts. Dream becomes

a time-eroded vestige, meekly falls

beside the flame that dazzles, yet benumbs.

Once molded to conform to circumstance,

the aged can scarce resist the shadow dance.

“Le Soleil, ou la Chute d’Icare”a painting by Merry-Joseph Blondel 25 July 1781 – 12 June 1853He was bestowed with the rank of Knightin the order of the Legion d'Honneurby Charles X of France and offereda professorship at the École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts

14.

WINDS DANCE IN CELEBRATION

—by Gail Denham

Winds blew all day, toppled trees

on our sand filter; trees downed a power line

on Burgess Road. This started a small fire;

homes briefly evacuated and engines

screamed from everywhere to save homes.

On our deck, my heart surged in exhilaration

with wind music. I wondered if we’d be next.

Yet even in danger, I wanted to dance with tall

graceful pines that swayed, curtsied and hummed.

Winds don’t slow when the moon first spreads

its light. The supple trees kept up

their exuberant rhythm far into the night.

Finally old man moon stilled the weaving,

bowing leafy ones. I sat quiet, absorbed

their closing rustle songs – early sounds

that proclaimed summer’s arrival.

OnOnOnOnthethethethe

Lighter SideLighter SideLighter SideLighter Side

July2018201820182018

Lynn Fetterolf...16

Ann Gasser...21

Prabha Nayak Prabhu...19

Lucille Morgan Wilson...22

15.

Maureen Applegate...18

Michael Bourgo...20

Gail Denham...23

Marilyn Downing...17

16.

COOKING LESSON

—by Lynn Fetterolf

Take a piece of leather,

An old shoe will do.

Pack it up and ship it

To the British Isles

With these instructions,

Cook a stew.

Then take the mate,

Left foot, by chance

And send it off

To any town in France,

Left Bank or Right,

No matter who,

Same instructions,

Make Ragout.

The right shoe boiled

And boiled and boiled

Again in salted H2O

Makes tough and tougher,

Tasteless dough.

The left, wine bathed

In herbal aromatic brew

Becomes ambrosial.

Enough to make the gods

of gourmandizing smile on you.

‘Tis plain to see. One taste

Will prove beyond a doubt,

If cooking well is your milieu,

Learn your craft at Cordon Bleu!

17.

THE GRAMMARIAN

May she rest in peace —by Marilyn Downing

Whether she was right or not,

she could tell you what was what.

She learned all there was to know

but that was fifty years ago.

Never mind she didn’t compose

any creative or published prose.

She never strayed from grammar rules

to keep them pure within our schools.

Her red pen had plenty of use

in correcting student papers’ abuse.

As department head, she held tight

because she knew what’s wrong from right.

Her way was the ONLY way—like some mad KING.

We listened intently, then did our own thing.

18.

NO VACANCY!

—by Maureen Applegate

Silly little songbird batting at my side view mirror!

Do you think some rival bird is nesting here?

This is not a place for you, for I must roam-

nesting here would make a “mobile” home!

Go find a tall and shaded maple tree

to nest and raise your little prodigy!

Or choose the hanging basket at my kitchen door

just like the house wren did the year before.

To each his own we all are wont to say…

but I must get to work – be on your way!

NARCISSIST

—by Prabha Nayak Prabhu

There once was a woman from Galway

Who loved doing cartwheels in the hallway

When someone asked her why

She replied with a sigh

“To attract attention in a small way.”

19.

20.

LONDON, ENGLAND

—by Michael Bourgo

Along the Thames there was a town

where Roman Legions bedded down;

and later in this lovely city,

King Henry showed Anne little pity!

Let’s not forget that Will Shakespeare

wrote his greatest stuff right here;

and later, bards like Mr. Keats

were crafting new poetic feats.

If you would like a spire and such,

Big Ben will please you very much,

or for some Gothic that’s not shabby,

take a tour around the Abbey!

For a view of royal power,

you will want to see the Tower,

and if at noon you need some grub,

you just seek out a friendly pub,

but should you yearn to view the Queen—

I’m sorry— she is rarely seen!

AMBIVALENCE a Petrarchan Sonnet

—by Ann Gasser

When summer comes with leaves of verdant green

to camouflage tree boughs where robins nest,

and scent of new mown grass fills air with zest,

I find my eyes devouring every scene

to save for times my stash of dreams is lean.

But soon I find I’m bored with grass and trees,

I miss the city’s neon signs, its lights.

I crave excitement, friends, and joviality.

Why did I ask for boring times like these?

I’d like to see the city’s wondrous sights—

(But only with a cop or two or three.)

19.

22.

FAMOUS FACTS:

HANGING GARDENS OF BABYLON

LASTED MORE THAN SIX CENTURIES

—by Lucille Morgan Wilson

When Nebuchadnezzar chose to make a garden for his wife

to please her queenly fancy, (She missed the mountain life.)

he opted for perennials, long-lived and insect-free,

drought-resistant, thrived in heat, sixth century B.C.

His must have been a greener thumb than mine will ever be;

those Hanging Gardens made it into modern history.

Each spring I pick the finest strains from glossy catalogs. . .

I know! Neb's garden's out of reach of deer and puppy dogs!

FARM GAL’S DILEMMA

—by Gail Denham

For years I been a copin’

with pigs and cows and ropin’

But it’s a dog-bone mystery

throughout all modern history

why easy-open boxes will not open.

23.