The write stuff
Let us share your scribblings with the world.
Send your Writers Corner submissions to Maureen Dolan, mdolan@cdapress.com.
We prefer e-mail submissions, and we ask that you limit the length of your stories and poems. Please include your hometown with your submission.
You can send hard-copies by mail to Maureen Dolan at The Press, 201 Second St., Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, 83814.
And now, we present more poems, stories and essays written by you, our readers.
THE SCOURGE
They had marched and fought for months with little food to eat
And many weeks had passed since they'd had a scrap of meat
They marched ore fallen logs and through the powdery fresh snow
Praying to see the morning and feel the sun and it's warm glow
The howling wolf and freezing fog had beckoned in the night
Twas a time when even battle hardened men must wrestle fright
That these great mighty men should fear, is unbelievable you say
Yet through this fear they had pushed on, through conflict night and day
Courage it is said is not the absence of fear, but rather the facing of those fears
This these men had done, staying with their comrades through all the blood and tears
"War is a scourge," we here is what the writer said
This will be evidenced when in the end, our heroes are all dead.
- Will Dole, Plummer
THREE LIONS BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
By Joan S. Hust
What would you do if the sandy road disappeared as you were driving in the bush looking for a place to stop and have a cup of tea?
I was taking the youth group from the Bemba speaking Church in Chingola on a wildlife safari in the Kafue National Park in Zambia. It was late in the morning, and I was looking for a place to stop, as some of the girls needed a pit stop.
Just as I stopped, turned the engine off, and put my hand out the window to open the door as the door handle inside was missing, I gasped and held my breath! Two feet in front of me in the tall grass were three lions sitting comfortably at the edge of the road. Their red bloodshot eyes were staring at me. They were so close I could have leaned out and touched them. They did not move nor did they take their eyes off of me.
I put my right hand up to signal silence, and quickly rolled up the window. No one
moved in the van or uttered a sound. I knew by their bloodshot eyes that they had just had their lunch as their whiskers still looked wet and bloody. The carcass of the zebra was off to the side where the lioness had left it.
The gross, black, shiny, long-lnosed vultures were flying in a circle overhead waiting for them to leave, with the hyenas glaring and patiently waiting their turn to get some of the leftovers in the background. Lunch is served for the pride in this order-first the Papa, then the Mama, and finally the cubs.
After many tries the engine finally started, and I chug, chug, and chugged away. We
all started singing quietly, "I AM SO GLAD THAT JESUS LOVES ME."
We finally saw an umbrella thorn tree in the distance, and stopped for a much needed cup of tea with biscuits served by our tea boy to settle our nerves and calm down. After catching our breath we were able to talk about one of our several narrow escapes.
FIRST AND LAST MONTH
A vision of the kids remains
More vivid than the sound of
Miserable young parents
Quarreling, trying to
Keep it together and
Finally resorting to asking
Neighbors for work for
Change to buy dinner.
They're gone now, obviously
Evicted because the first-
And-last-month landlord
Resorted to police enforcement
Knocking at the door.
A vision everlasting of those boys
Whizzing by on their bikes and scooters
Screaming in innocent delight . . .
--Virginia Garner, Post Falls
DASH OF SORROW
By Linda Fifer,
Coeur d'Alene
The brunch ladies met at Arlene's this month: Delia, Francine and the youngest, Asia, brought salads; Joyce, blackberries and cream.
Arlene prepared inky espresso at meal's end, while others served up their lovers, pouring spite and cream equally into their cups.
Now reminded of Pembroke Street, Arlene distantly spoke of the ultimatum thrown at him as he packed: "Then, take this money if that's all I was to you. Or, refuse it, if you love me."
Cups cooled, cream clouds swirled to a stop in the espresso, mid-stir.
"What did he do?" Delia asked.
Arlene stared. "He lied."
TRAVELS IN TIME
THE LAW OF UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES
By Philip Membury, Coeur d'Alene
Recent visitors to the battlefield of Gettysburg were startled to find a strange structure at the edge of the field. No one could determine its purpose or how it got there. It was about the size of an old telephone booth but was full of instruments and gauges which no one could explain. The most curious thing of all was that it contained a single seat upon which was strewn a set of clothing of some advanced design. Shoes and socks lay in front of the seat. The clothing arrangement was such as if it was discarded by someone who sat there and mysteriously vacated the clothing without removing it. An investigation continues.
Charles tightened the last bolt.
"There", he said, "Finished at last. Now to try a test run. Let me see. Ah! The battle of Gettysburg. I should be able to bring back proof that I was there and silence all these skeptics."
Charles entered his machine, made several adjustments and settings and activated various mechanisms.
At first he felt nothing, but as time passed he began to experience several old memories-thoughts of times past. Initially the old memories were vague but then they began to overwhelm his more recent ones.
Soon he was recalling his college and then his high school days. His high school senior prom loomed large in his mind but then faded away. He began to worry about his grades and what his parents would think. He noticed his clothes were getting too large for him.
He wondered , "Why am I in this strange little room?. Where are mommy and daddy and where are my toys?"
He wriggled about in his strange wrappings and began to cry. Then he found his thumb, put it into his mouth and was comforted. Mommy or daddy would come soon and take care of everything as they always did. He crooned happily to himself as he grew ever smaller and then-he vanished.
KING OF YOUR HEART
You're like sunlight to me
You help me grow so gracefully
And I know that you will be
The only one that I love
Can't help this heart of mine
I want to dream in your warm sunshine
And wake up in a world where you're all mine
And I'm the king of your heart
Don't believe some silly lie
I make mistakes I'm just a guy
I'm sorry if I made you cry
It will never happen again
For just a little while
I felt the love that I once knew
To see you smile
And feel the sun come shinning through
But it wasn't to be
Now I'm lost in a memory
A lost soul with a history
No longer king of your heart
- Robert Fittro, Coeur d'Alene