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Showing posts from December, 2009

The Tribute of My Heart

Here is a poem penned by my paternal grandmother for Christmas.

If mine were the pen of a poet,
Or my voice were fitted to sing,
I'd write a lovely verse for you
On the birthday of our King.

Or, honoring Him, a picture paint
Had I the painter's art,
But as it is, I can but give
The tribute of my heart;

So I pray this Christmas may bring
The gift of richest worth...
That in your life, from day to day,
The Christ may have rebirth.

-- Alice Williams Linsley

A Star in the Lion Sky

Hannah Millikin

A bright star hung in the Lion sky;
Pointing towards a city nigh;
Sages saw the great light;
Magi knew the power of that night.

“We must follow the star,” they said to each other;
For the Scriptures say we will find a mother
With a baby, the Messiah, lying in a manger.
We shall risk all to see the King, even danger.”

Packing their belongings, they traveled from the East;
To gift the King with presents from their hand;
Day and night they pressed onward in haste;
Their journey long, no time they’d waste.

But when, the crowded city of Bethlehem grew near;
They lost their happiness and good cheer;
Where was the babe they had come to see?
They asked the King, “Where is he?

That we may bow our knee...”
They didn’t know it was a trap;
But when they found the babe in Mary’s lap;
They gave Him gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

(The Star of Bethlehem appeared in the constellation of Leo, the Lion, the totem of the tribe of Judah. An attorney and fellow blogger, Anglican Crum…

Chesterton's Christmas Carol

A Christmas Carol
G.K. Chesterton

The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast,
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)

The Christ-child stood at Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown.
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down.

Another Short Story by John Nichols

Good Enough
John Nichols

Rachel stood from where she knelt on the ground, silent tears streaming down her tired, pale visage. She let her long, swirling black hair down from the bun in which she had it to keep her lush tresses from blocking her sight. Her light, blue-green eyes stared down into the hole between the floorboards where she buried her heart. Where she buried everything that she once loved. Her hands, clad in gloves, soiled and brown with the fingers missing, reluctantly released their grip on the small heart shaped box, a once sparkling silver box, beautiful, but now dirty and grimy. She reached down into the hole and scooped dirt over her heart with a calloused hand until the box could no longer be seen. Then she turned on her heel and left the study, looking back longingly after each step. There could be no mistaking the pain she felt in leaving her heart behind.

She only hoped it would be enough, that giving up everything she once loved would be good enough.

She entere…

Faint Remembrance of Paradise

Thomas Cole's Expulsion From the Garden. Regarded as the "Father of the Hudson River School of Art", Cole helped to found the National Academy of Design in New York City. He is best known for his allegorical paintings.

A Day of Wonder and Beauty
Hannah Mulliken

A soft yellow light spreads across the clear sky.
The air is crisp, and cool;
the fresh morning scent of dew-splashed flowers
floats on a light breeze.

Birds of a myriad of colors open wide their beaks
and unashamedly glorify their Maker
for the wonders He performed that day.

Gurgling over rocks and roots
a stream flows through fruit-laden trees;
making its way out into an sunny meadow.

Butterflies dance through the air
proudly showing off their new-found colors.
With a happy heart, all creation cries:
“This is the day that the LORD has made!
We will rejoice and be glad in it!”

But alas, no one remembers
that perfect spring day
in a beautiful garden far away.

Glimmer Train Deadlines and Winners

The December Fiction Open closes January 2. Word count range: 2,000 - 20,000.
First-place wins $2,000 and publication in Issue 78 of Glimmer Train Stories.
Second- and third-place winners win $1,000/$600 (or, if chosen for publication, $700).

Winners and finalists of the September Fiction Open have been notified, and the Top-25 list is posted. Our thanks to all of you for letting us read your work!

1st place: "Bomb" by Carrie Brown
2nd place: "Life Underwater" by Ken Barris
3rd place: "Ellijay" by Lydia Fitzpatrick

We’ve just wrapped up our second and our final Best Start competition. It was a unique challenge and honor to judge this competition, and we thank you for sending in an amazing array of work! Although there were many more entries of obvious merit, we managed to whittle the list down to the 50 Best Starts!