Author: Karina Coghlan
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King George
This was written by our contributing writer, Karina Coghlan’s dear friend, Kathi Hinkle. He didn’t live here, and he didn’t live there. As a matter of fact, I don’t think he lived anywhere. But let me roll back the years and start near the beginning. I was born and raised in a metropolitan city. Thirty-five…
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Poetry- To Her Bold Lover
(Written in response to Andrew Marvell’s poem, To His Coy Mistress.) Though we may be lacking time Oh, bold lover, we’ve not yet reached our prime. If we lay down now in a pleasant embrace, Then you might vanish without a trace; Swept up by a current to find other rubies, Leaving me crying into…
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Recipe- Basil Mint Pesto
Ingredients: 1 cup of fresh basil 1/2 cup of fresh spearmint 1/2 cup of fresh mint 1/2 cup of freshly grated parmesan cheese 1/4 cup of pine nuts 3/4 cup of sunflower oil fresh cloves of garlic (measure with your heart) salt and pepper Directions and tips: Rinse mint and Basil. Fresh from the garden…
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Poetry- Hello Dragonfly
Surrendering to blackness Summer feels like autumn Dried leaves rain down sadness They never reach the bottom To and fro above my head Shimmering wings accompany my sorrow Hello dragonfly, I feel the happiness you spread Healing me like Achilles healed with yarrow When missing you persists Night passes, and peace greets me…
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Poetry- Reflecting
One by one, each star Is bursting through the dark One by one, each porch light In the neighborhood, turns on Reflecting to the stars Our earthbound constellations I wonder what the stars have named us This was written by our contributing writer, Karina Coghlan.
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An Old Wedding Dress
An old wedding dress that someone didn’t want any more hangs on a rack in a quiet antique shop. It thinks to itself, “My best day is long behind me.” The dress waits and waits as people pass it by, hanging there sadly, hoping for another chance to shine. As luck would have it, a…
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Gone Fishing
It is a chilly April morning, and the sun has not yet risen. Dad and Marie wake up early to pack the boatand drive to the lake. When they arrive, the shoreline is filled with other fishers and a long line of trucksand trailers waiting to release their boats on the boating ramp. While they…
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Poetry – Underneath The Rainbow
Underneath the rainbow Somewhere in the mountains, fair Mist still lingers in the air After days and days of endless rain The golden hills turn shamrock green In the ground lay sleeping seeds For flower-covered hills just shy of spring Underneath the rainbow You’ll find a little lake… or perhaps, a large pond Holding on…
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Vellichor
Vellichor (n) The strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time – From John Koenig’s “The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.” Any book lover, I am sure, has opened up an old, used book and fell in love with its yellowed pages and old paper smell. Don’t get me wrong,…
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Poetry – When The Power Goes Out
When the power goes out I travel through time Reading on the couch by candlelight The flame flickers about each candle jar The glow of the light Dances upon my open page With a blanket for warmth With a book in my hands I couldn’t ask for a more simple time Light the stove with…