Edith Grindle

The girl with the mismatched socks,

She doesn’t care what the grown-ups think.

Her feet are covered, and they never stink.

It may look a little weird,


she has a pair just like them at home.

Her concern is on other matters,

wishes people would leave her alone.

This girl whose spirit is free,

active and smart,

thinks socks are not important but what is –


is her kind, warm heart.


Silence of the Snow

Greg Zemlansky

The heaven sky is dark and the snow-

flakes are going wild.


The cold North wind does blow and

knocking at my front door for awhile.

I stand and watch through a partially

snow-covered window.

The backyard woods fill-up quickly

with the silence of the snow.


Branches on the pine trees are all

dressed in a snowy sight.

The country-side is transformed

into a winter wonderland of white.

The dark clouds shake the silence of

snow down…down…down.


Not making a sound all the way to the

frozen white ground.

Non-stop flakes after flakes busy at

work through-out the night.

The silence of the snow by morning

light is piled sky-high.


Flakes still falling down slowly like

tiny ice-crystal stars.

The silence of the snow just another

photo page of my memoirs.

Comments are not available on this story.