Art of the Week–Hologram

Click on the image to see it larger.

Hologram Irene Bartz Chester County Branch, PA Mixed media

Irene Bartz
Chester County Branch, PA
Mixed media

Poem of the Week–Going Home


In the haze of her clouds,
She repeated in short breaths:
“I want to go home”
“I want to go home.”

Home, where was home?
Only she knew and she was ready.

Why the screaming, the biting, the scratching?

Drifting in and out of the fog
She repeated almost breathless:
“I want to go home.”

‘Mom, it’s time to forgive all those who pained you
In your yesterdays and yesteryears.
It’s time!
It’s time to surrender!’

Ears listened to their last words;
Eyes opened to his tender touch
And final kiss.

Suddenly, she was at peace.

With Rainbows of her Life,
The sweet gentle Spirit
Returned Home.

Dedicated to my mother-in-law, Bertha Hirschhorn, age 98 who ‘went home’ on July 23, 2014

Vera Ripp Hirschhorn
Boca Raton Branch, FL

Webinar, Dance Program and call for presenters

Visit our News and Events page for more info on the following NLAPW events:

Tonight! Tuesday, September 23:

Intellectual Property for Creatives Webinar. IP Attorney shares valuable knowledge on protecting your greatest asset: your creative work.

October 18, 2014:

The Visual Language of Dance Program and Reception
Lorene Walker, Namyanka Performing Arts Training Center
Pen Arts Building, Washington, DC
Free and open to the public.

Deadline, October 31, 2014

Call for presenters, Pikes Peak Writers Conference

Art of the Week–Christina’s Pail

Click on the image to see it larger:

Christina's Pail Mikki Dillon Atlanta Branch, GA Pastel

Christina’s Pail
Mikki Dillon
Atlanta Branch, GA

Visit our website to find out about our webinars, contests, grants and more see blog posts of poetry and art!

Art of the Week–Diana’s Shadow

In keeping with our moon theme, this from Rachael Ikins, (click on the image to see it larger):

Diana's Shadow Rachael Ikins Central New York Branch

Diana’s Shadow
Rachael Ikins
Central New York Branch

Tuesday in New York City

Tuesday in New York City

It was a beautiful September morning in the Big Apple
My son, my only child was at work.
He was in a building behind a church
And in the shadow of one of a pair of iconic skyscrapers

Not yet nine o’clock in the morning
Everything was quiet and normal
Then the first plane hit
Everyone thought it was an accident

Across the street and thirty stories high
The view was incomprehensible
Seventy stories higher and across the street
People begin to jump to escape

He makes eye contact with a man falling toward the street below
He is unable to speak or to move frozen by what he is seeing
A second plane attacks the other skyscraper
He knows it’s time to get everyone out

At ground level bodies litter the pavement like discarded rag dolls
Stepping over them and around them is indescribable
Yet they do it, they get away stopping for nothing
All they think about is surviving

With time they will go on with life
They know they will never forget
That beautiful Tuesday morning in
September in New York City

Etta Schaeffer
Boca Branch, FL

Perigee Moon

Perigee Moon (at Seventy-Three)

Huge moon, midsummer moon
White disc glimmers
Erasing stars
Magic light behind the pines
Bars of brightness on the lake
A moon to make a wish on

As fifty years ago
On a summer night near another lake
Holding his hand
Beneath the full moon
I wished hopefully, selfishly
Not knowing what I wanted
But knowing that I wanted
Moonrise, sunrise, ebb and flow
Wishes forfeit, wishes fulfilled
Holding his hand this summer night
In the light of the perigee moon
Parents, grandparents, lovers still
I wish for more years together
In the moonlight

Judy Crystal
Greenwich Branch, CT

Visit to see more poems about the moon on our blog.

Art of the Week

Click on the image to see it larger:

Lady in the Park Colleen Erickson, Ft Worth Branch, TX Mixed media

Lady in the Park
Colleen Erickson, Ft Worth Branch, TX
Mixed media

Visit our on line galleries to see more works by our members.

Poem of the Week–A Twist of Time


A quaint establishment had housed their union.
candle light and wine
to set time
in slow motion,
like the drizzle of rain
down the window glass,
holding the future at bay.
Both knew it would not last
this moment,
or the rain.
Time too, trickles
into the dust.

In the ladies room,
she freshened her lipstick,
blood red,
and blotted it on the napkin
still clutched in her hand,
then shoved it in her pocket
as she joined him again.

They drove in silence
to the airport, following
a twisted road through mist.

At the security check she kissed
him so hard the Green Beret tumbled
to the floor and they laughed,
attempting to make
light of the moment.

Still laughing,
from her pocket
she yanked the napkin,
“See, an imprint
of our last kiss. I plan
to frame it till we kiss

When he returned,
she spoke with the funeral attendant,
“Please before you close the casket would you lay this in his hand.”

by Joyce Gregor
Pikes Peak Branch

Poem of the Week–Backyard at Midnight

Backyard at Midnight

What’s that light out back?
There’s no moon that I know of.

But wait…it is the moon!
I didn’t expect that.

Yard so illumined tonight…
the pool has that milky glow,
ethereal look.

And the deck…it’s lit up like a stage
waiting for performers.

Junipers in the backdrop, husky and dense,
casting shadows over the landscape.

No wind at all, after the torment of
earlier constant blowing.

The stillness of midnight seems made for me
or someone, to notice…this muse, this desire.

Linda Marie Prather
Modesto Branch, CA

Editor’s note:
I am still accepting “moon poems” and welcome submissions of poetry on any subject for both the website and upcoming issues of the Pen Woman Magazine. –Treanor Baring