Showing posts from August, 2019


I miss her fur, eyes, black tongue, and ears. Her whimper, bark, laugh, and tears. I miss her joy, grief, and sadness. Her anger, fear, love, and madness. I miss the days when we would play, Take walks, and tell her my frustrations once a day. I miss her name rolling off my tongues tip. Her company, and companionship I loved my dog and I'm not afraid to say, That I miss her every single day. By Evelyn Creon

Summer Roll

Rolling down a grassy knoll I feel the world spinning. I pick up speed as I roll. Soft grass hitting my face Filling my nose with the fragrance Of grass, earth, and summer. The carefreeness in that moment Felt absolutely incredible. I slowly came to a stop. Lying there looking at the sky So blue, with fluffy white clouds Floating across it. I forgot all the pain and hurt I had been dragging me around.  By Evelyn Creon 

Hand Print on the Window Pane

I watched it appear  It was a strange sight indeed.  The hand print on the window pane. It was there one minute  Then gone the next.  It scared me to pieces.  I had been knitting in my rocker Just minding my own business. When out of the blue  There was a tapping  On the window pane.  At first I paid no attention,  But it didn't seem to stop. When I finally looked up  I jumped a little from shock.  I could very clearly see it,  The shape of a hand print On my frost covered window. I looked down at my knitting  Then looked again at the window.  But there was no hand print on the pane.  I must have imagined it, I thought.  Though I am sure I did not.   By Evelyn Creon 

My Lullaby

From the corner my eye I could see the lullaby. It was the one grandma sung Before she up and died. Its tune was whimsical and soft And floated through the air.  Bounced of the bedroom walls And swept down the stairs. The part that I loved the most  Was when the girl could fly.  When she sung that line  I would drift into a sleepy sky.  Now I hold onto the memories Of the nights when she would shine As she sung my sweet lullaby. I wish she could sing it one last time. By Evelyn Creon