http://slow.writerscafe.org/mhb The original writings of author Michael en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776166643 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 A haiku about this mornings rain http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/1268563/ I'm not sure why poets seem to suffer, we just do. Perhaps everyone does, just poets have an outlet to express it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/897430/ Be careful -you mortal souls my powers you cannot know I wait. You toil and work, stupidly your time-marked days slipping away I wait. Sooner or later, they are the same to me you choose, either will do  I wait. Among you I stand, but you see me not Here I am, still you do not see  I wait... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/793920/ Thinking about the changing season. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/788773/ It is the nature of days to pass us byas we trek, yes,wander throughout our livesFor each day is there for use to ponder whywe notice not as day's twilight arrivesI then press the day to forgive us just thisfor we're ignorant of light's swift retreat trivial things fill our time and we call it "blis.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/586262/ Just something fun based on Clement Clarke Moore's "A Visit from St Nickolas" (The Night Before Christmas) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/484673/ Something I wrote during a thunderstorm the other day. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/406591/ The story of how I received a nickname when I was in the Navy http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/393506/ A poem for the coming of Spring http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/387982/ A sonnet about the stupidity of wars. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/384877/ April is coming, are you ready for National Poetry Month? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/383284/ The world really has no excuse! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/382388/ Part of my sonnet collection http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/382362/ Sailing around Scotland is a life changing experience. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/357615/ Songbirds gather in the morning mist, and greet the rising sun,like the woodwinds from an orchestra, united they sing as one.From the warbling call of mated wrens, that sing throughout the day, to the staccato cry of the yellowthroat, I listen to what they say.With sardonic scorn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/357036/ As blithe little dancers, gently decorate the sky, and move across heavens, you question the reasons why.  Bright sunshine or cloudy night, hides them from our view, - they are there and there they stay, never failing to imbue. Give to us? Yes they do, in whispers so.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/357023/ Echoes in the morning, as birds sang their song, gave the day a warming, as they piped along. Echoes in the daytime, of noises made by man, left the world less sublime, 'twas not in Nature's plan. Echoes in the eve, are barely heard at all, to petty lies we cleave, and ru.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/356869/     Artwork by Annie Vought (click image for link) The empty page before me holds magic within its bounds I sit and hold its edges 'til my inspiration's foundShh... Quiet now and you’ll hear it so softy speak to me Guides my mind to fill its lines bu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/356533/ Something that came to me one morning after reading about the inhumanity all around us. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/356239/ The daybreak has a special taste, each morning as I rise.It feeds me deep within my soul, a feast for hungry eyes. An eastern view is all I need, to nosh my hungry core. Orangey-blues and purple-grays,I see outside my door. In a moment’s time - breakfast ends, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/356222/ Windy wild foreboding night, blowing things about. Tree limbs bow to your call, with arms reaching out.Beating fast my heart does pound, no comfort in this place. Running fast I know not where, or how to win this race.Tangled now within their grasp, I try to struggle free. Hold.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/353896/  God told me the secret of the world,he whispered in my earI could tell you, shall I?No, that is not mine to doGod told me the secret of the world.  God told me the secret of the world,I was walking in the woodsIt's not a secret well kept - Yes,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/351239/ A blank verse poem about loss and how some people are destine to face it http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/351063/ A seasonal sonnet http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/349370/ A sonnet about love and distance http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/348672/ Walking the woods one morning http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/346073/ If all you wanted was my heartbeat,you only had to ask.Each beat, each pulse of itis there only for you.There is no need for deception,though easy a mark am I.I believe all you tell me, each lie,I do not question them.I cannot – I will not!For I am lost in the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/345353/ I was in the mood for a sonnet this morning. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/345314/ Just some thoughts about new President and how to support him. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/341579/ Dreams drive my life http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/336182/ Just something for the day http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/335913/ Sailboats Number Three Painting by Michael Cunliffe Thompson Saltwater sprays across the bowas the hull-line cuts the sea.Close trimmed sails pulling fastas wind blows and sets us free. Freedom from land and its woesthat tempts us to its cellgives way to us for nature's.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/306779/ To one of the greatest poets ever, Emily Dickinson. She remains one of my inspirations. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/305820/ Something that came to me canoeing in the marsh. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/298801/ I composed this on my last visit to the memorial. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/296888/ Written at Beaufort National Cemetery while watching an old solder visiting his buddies interred there. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/296454/ See if you agree with the acrostic message. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/293891/ For my brother http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/293338/ We all need to keep a weather eye out, no telling where a storm can come from. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/293107/ Two emotions are all we haveto guide us though our lifeTwo impressions of how things areno matter what our strifeThe first is fear and strong it isfor fear can blind the soulthat moment in time when it callsit twists and takes control The other's love and stronger stillnothing .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/292200/ Runaway dreams run roughshod through the nightkeeping restless my soul, my heart, my mind.Heavenly golds that quickly fade to graytorment my emotions, my thoughts, my cares.Still I feel them, and that's somehow enoughenough to ease my soul, my heart, my mind...  They tell me I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/289384/ Something the recent storms brought to mind. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/288556/     Slowly we move as in a glide, and in my arms you rest, as a toe's push propels the ride, your cheek upon my chest.In slow motion we drift the tide, to pause upon the crest, and then gently back soon we'll slide, retorting chain's protest.    &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/288161/ I awoke and found me dreaming, slumbering upon my bed.Yet still confused on which was real,the standing or resting head,I chose to ignore the matter and grab a coffee instead.I returned to check my bedroomoh yes - I still lie asleep!So I sat down with my coffeeand struggled wit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/287778/ This is a work inspired by the Simran Gleason painting "Ashes" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/287136/ Its time to cast some light on the stage http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/283984/ For entry in the Vibrant Villanelles contest. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/283838/ Something I wrote watching the news one day http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/283001/ A true story around the time I was seventeen http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/282663/ I composed this one morning while waiting to see the sunrise. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mhb/282014/