Poet, Audrey Austin

Poet, Audrey Austin
This site is to honour my mother, poet, Eva Ruby Austin.

Thursday, December 31, 2015

Welcome 2016!

Peace, good health, prosperity, and dreams come true for you in 2016. Love & hugs from Brian, Ki, and me.

Happy New Year!

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

A Christmas Wish -- a poem by Audrey Austin


A time of love, a time for sharing
Let's find new ways to light the path
While old traditions tried and true
Express how much we're caring
For our family
For our friends
For people 'round our hungry world.

A time of peace, a time for laughter
Let's find new ways to share the love
While old relationships hold fast
We'll open hearts, extend our reach
To neighbours near
To neighbours far,
To those with whom we've yet to meet.

A time of joy, a time to remember
The holy birth of the blessed child
Who gave us the reason
To celebrate this season
A season of love, of caring, of sharing,
Love will brighten the path of all who are weary.
Hold the light, share the light, be the light.

Merry Christmas!

Thursday, October 29, 2015

IN MEMORY OF MOM - a poem by Eleanor Lambert


It's hard to believe 25 yrs have gone by
Since our Mom went to her home in the sky,
To be with her Savior she served and loved
To the home prepared for her in Heaven above.

We have many memories of times together,
She was full of life and love no matter the weather.
Never a dull moment when with our Mom.

She made us laugh until we cried
Oh the fun we had just being by her side.
Now we are all looking forward to the day
When we'll be together in our Home far away.

I hope we will all be ready when time comes to die,
So we'll be with her and Jesus in our Home on high.

Monday, August 17, 2015

It Happened On a Monday ...... a poem by Audrey Austin


Each had a plan of action
One with pen and one with sword,
Each believing he was right,
Brothers, both determined.
News reports were read and
They said one killed the dreams
Of many who, like fools,
Believed it safe to think big thoughts;
Envision change and
After all
They were just kids, two students
At the local school; one who wanted
Love to conquer bullying,

Stamp out hate, and so
It happened that he wrote it down.
And on a Monday
he read his words aloud
to others who would listen.
He shared his truth in voice so clear
One boy, alone, he felt no fear
A shot rang out
And then another,
Victims both the papers said.
Their world impure; two boys are dead,

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Just Believe - a poem by Rima N. Jaber

Just Believe

I believe in light and hope,
I believe in peace and love,
I believe in Angels and God,

I fly between the particles of light and hope,
I give you my hand, join me,
To reach the holiness and glory,

I flow on the waves of peace and love,
I beg you be one with me,
To shine all over the world brightly,

I talk to God and Angels,
Pray with me and reach godly ecstasy,
To be a shining bridge of Earth and Heaven gloriously,

Be the light and hope,
Be peace and love,
Be the Angel with God blessings divinity.

I love you.

Rima N. Jaber
© 13, August, 2015

Our Mom -- a poem by Eleanor Lambert, Bermuda.







Monday, July 6, 2015

Ride the Fire - a poem by Jenna Cornell

Excerpt from Fantastic Illusions of Life, Love, the Bird, and the Bees:

Ride the Fire

I want to extinguish myself from this world. Go out like a raging fire; where only coals remain. Break free from confines, tie lines, and chains.

I want to float away on winds across the earth. Burst through the clouds; dare to fly. Soar in the heavens, the Milky Way, into the forbidden sky.

I want to ride on starlight chariots. Race through constellations; scatter the speed of light. Dance on Saturn's rings, comet tails, into the black and white.

I want to extinguish myself from this world. Go out like a raging fire, where only coals remain. Break free from confines, tie line, and chains...away from foolish games.

The collection is titled Fantastic Illusions of Life, Love, the Birds, and the Bees. It contains 38 poems centered on love, life, dreams, and romantic illusions. The collection is available through Amazon.com as a paperback and also on Kindle. I have included below one of the poems from the collection.

Jenna Cornell
Writer, Instructor, Musician.

About the Author

Jenna Cornell has a MA in English and Creative Writing. She holds a BA in English: Creative Writing and Theatre. An active writer since a very young age, she has since seen her work published in The Northern Lights Arts Journal, The Manifest, Sheepshead Review, The Fourth Estate, Mauthe Center Magazine, Examiner.com, Virtual Music Cafe and had plays read at Theatre on the Bay. In 2014, she her short screenplay "Hunk of Burning Love" and made it into the Top 50 Quarterfinals in the Canadian Short Screenplay Competition. Fantastic Illusions of Life, Love, the Birds, and the Bees made its debut in 2015. She is currently working on a variety of writing and music projects.

Friday, April 3, 2015

Friday, March 27, 2015

Dear Family of Mine - a poem by Norma Albrecht

Dear Family of Mine
Lovely are the thoughts and deeds of friends so grand and true,
Dearest are their worth and most loved in all they do,
Welcome smiles,when traveled miles return you once again,
My heart is right there with them,though far away I am, 
Such a treat to sit and greet,and share the latest news with My dear friends,
Have a tea,a laugh and be ourselves without any need to pretend,
My family so dear and sweet,I love to spend some time,
The heart does fonder grow you know when apart too long we find,
I am so fortunate to have the friends and family I've got,
Just to name a few of them ,,There is Fred And there Is Scott,
My dear Mother and Her sisters,Such a wonderful crew,
My cousins ,nieces ,and My own children, My husband Raymond too,
They make My life ,would not be nice to not have all of them,
My nephews and My Grandchildren ,so many women and dear Men,
My Uncles were of many,they now are of few,
My Grandparents may God bless them,and all that they did do,
Like a great and flourished tree,
Branches from the strongest foundation we,
Our Brothers and Sisters,one and all,
May our way be blessed and our blessed Savior call,
One by one we leave and wait,
One by one our final day,
One by one ,may we again then each other find,
One by one ,dear family of mine,,,
Norma Albrecht.

FINALLY FREE - a poem by Norma Albrecht

Finally Free
Free, free ,to be set free,
Nothing to fear, nothing to plead,
Free, free, from all that is wrong,
Free to not wonder where we belong,
Have you ever been free,from worry and care,
Have you ever been free ,have you been there,
Have you ever been free,and light as the wind,
Have you ever been free,have you My friend,
I visited freedom,there was nothing to hide,
I visited freedom,It took Me inside,
I visited freedom,but I could not stay,
The cares of this world called Me back again,
I will go back,when it is time,
I will go back ,to freedom divine,
Such a wonderful place,it is to be,
Where only love lives,and it loves Me,
This world and its problems,are for us to see,
What it will be like,to finally be free,
Without cares and problems,of every kind,
What would we know of appreciation,for the divine,
Though we would rather be happy,no care in this world,
Each of us need,to learn of good and evil,each boy and each girl,
So much to learn,so much to see,
Until we are finally ,,oh finally free,,,,
Norma Albrecht.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

SPRING - a poem by Eva Ruby Austin


Although the sky is Azure Blue,
Today the sun shines brightly too,
Its very presence seems to say
Remember Spring is on its way.

'Twill not be long before the trees,
Will bloom again and have new leaves,
The Robins,  then will come to say,
Remember! Spring is on its way.

How wonderful it is to know,
That lying lifeless in the snow,
The grass is waiting to be seen
In all it's beauty fresh and green

The flowers too, will wake to say
Remember! Spring is on the way,
To Mother Nature's' beckoning call
They hasten promptly one and all.

Eva Ruby  Austin.

Friday, February 6, 2015

WEEP - a poem by Cindy J. Smith


As you stand by my grave
Please do not weep for me
For from the shackles of life's woes
I am finally free

Weep for the homeless
Trying hard to cope
As they face each day
Without any hope

Weep for the greedy
Whether rich or poor
Who ignore what they have
Their hands held out for more

Weep for those who hunger
Makes them roam the streets
Searching through dumpsters
For something to eat

Weep for the young soldiers
Sent abroad to war
Who wonder what all
The destruction and death is for

Weep for the Veterans
Who every day face
The horrors they have seen
That their minds can't erase

Weep for the abused
Who fear for their life
Too scared to leave
Lover, husband or wife

Weep for those young women
Who just sought an escape
That got caught in the sex trades
And feel it's their fate

Weep for the addict
Be it alcohol or drugs
Unable to face a world
Where they feel so unloved

Weep for the children
Who are no longer shown
Only by being responsible
Are you ever truly grown

Weep for the single mothers
Who work night and day
Trying to make a home
So their child will be safe

Weep for the world
Filled with violence and hate
That instead of solving problems
Just holds lots of debates

I will weep for you
And stand by you each day
Hoping my tears will
Wash your grief away

© Cindy J. Smith

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

ALAS - a poem by Cindy J. Smith


It seems that life
Is so unfair
When failing health...
Causes one despair

Tempted to cry
Oh, Woe is me
Invite all to
Pity Party

But take a look
See others who
Are so much worse
Off than poor you

Child with cancer
Fighting for life
Husband grieving
Loss of his wife

Woman who had
Baby stillborn
Her hopes and dreams
Completely torn

Families in
War zone country
Daily seeking
A bit of safety

Your condition
Is in new light
When others needs
Are in your sight

© Cindy J. Smith

Saturday, January 31, 2015

Here Is My Feast Of Crystal Splendor - a poem by Tasha Halpert

Here Is My Feast Of Crystal splendor


Now the landscape is still.

Grasses are stiff, rimed with frost.

Bare trees sleep,

dreaming of warmth as yet  distant.

But a new beauty imbues their branches

their essential selves emerge

in a pattern of graceful tracery

against the winter sky.



I am become ice

caressing the garden with my cold kisses,

taming wavelets to stillness.

Here is my feast of crystal splendor

displayed in masses of diamonds

that sparkle everywhere to see.

How beautiful I am, and how pristine.

Relish my beauty,  but do not touch me

lest you suffer from the frost.


I magnify the light,

extending its power to dazzle the eye.

Soft snow shrouds me in a white fur cloak,

muffling sound, softening hard edges.

But I crack branches,

scour stones, and buffet cliffs.

Locked out of life I pry at openings to get in.

I am envious of warmth, 

and will not melt before my time,

nor give way when the light begins to lengthen.


Some call me cruel, others kind,

knowing that  all life needs to sleep,

that old forms crumble to make way for new.

But  light  persists. At last  I soften in the warmth,

beguiled,  I loosen my clasp until

irresistibly compelled I yield myself at last

to Spring's embrace and fall asleep

to drowse the warm away,

knowing that I will wake again one day.


Tasha Halpert

Saturday, January 17, 2015

The Apples and The Cantaloupes - a poem by Jurgen Braunohler


The World is such a fruity place,
You can toss it for a loop.
My Mother was the juggling Ace ...
With Apples and the Cantaloupes.

Sweets and fruits a-plenty
Were the visions in her childhood mind.
War and poverty left her hungry
In ways that were just most unkind.

She left behind that ravaged land
And came by ship to Canada.
What she saw then was so grand:
With fruits that made her shout "Aha!"

Our kitchen had enough to spare
With food from every group,
But always in the corner
Were the Apples and the Cantaloupes.

My Mother was a wonder
With all the things that she could do.
Whenever I had a question,
She reached for a handy Cantaloupe.

"Mummy, how are babies made?"
This posed no major problem:
An Apple and a Cantaloupe
Sure gave the explanation.

Questions about the Sun and Moon?
Why we have our night and day?
A flashlight on some dancing fruits
Lit things right away.

Evenings on the sofa
In our stormbound summer cottage,
A plate of peaches came at me:
Good health was Mother's message.

But when girls became the issue
 and this boy got quite silly,
"I'll fix your wagon, you!"
Was my seasoned Mother's play.

She sent me to an artists' school
To sketch and draw bare naked women.
I came home each time in a state of drool,
But my Mother saw the omen.

I feasted on this subject daily,
In every shape and form,
Until I got so fully sated
That I became quite bored.

Women, Apples, Cantaloupes,
The Baubles dancing in my brain,
Became so really tedious
That I wanted off the train.

With all my drawings done and stuffed into my tote,
Mother asked me once again just what it was I drew...
As my Baubles now were sailboats,
She winked and passed the Cantaloupe!

Jurgen Braunohler,
Mother's Day, 2010.

Friday, January 16, 2015

PETER THE SWELL - a poem by Jurgen Braunohler


 There's a noble fleet of whalers, somewhere in Newfielands. 
 They're sailed by Peter Myers and his crew of Merry Hams. 
 They sing right in the shower. They sing far out at sea. 
 They sing way up at Eddie Blacks, and 'round the Christmas tree (Yo!)

Peter is a swell guy, who sailed the Newfie seas. 
 He steamed across to Port au Basques in a great and merry breeze. 
 He didn't have his dinner, and he didn't have his tea. 
 But he had his darling Newfie wife, and to Twillingate went he

Now Jurgen is a bugger, who will sail to Port au Basques. 
 He'll swim across the Cabot Strait, when his sailboat breaks its mast. 
 He'll never have his dinner, and he'll never have his tea. 
 He doesn't even have a wife! So he's gone to find one, see?

When the years have gone and passed us, and we've retired from the sea,
we'll sit around at Port au Basques, and drink our Newfie tea. 
 We'll have our darling wifiedoos, and eat our dinners too.
  Hopefully we'll live that long, sooooooo, Happy New Year, to You!

             a note from  the poet, Jurgen Braunohler:   One more thing:  Black's was a photo lab, and I was belting out sea songs in the darkroom to Peter's amusement.  I mention this so you will know what all the Blacks and singing business is about.


Wednesday, January 14, 2015

There's a Bitter-Sweetness here -- a poem by Yotanka Coicou

Every expiration teaches something
Death-destined....tender rasping

The drip drip of intravenous existence
Where words run on for much too long

We have never been closer....they say
Yet....you're not the flesh....we knew

There's a bitter-sweetness here
We can't endure

The wailing
We have not yet composed

The shooting star is dead
We lie....wrapped in abstraction

So lonely....so lonely together
So many ancient questions

Fester beneath the skin
In the progression of discrete collapse

The sliced Earth waits for burial
A cemetery....for trusting seeds

We shake the nettles from our clothes
The burrs....clinging for....dear life

Oracle....for no written word
Bellows....that spark

By permission of the author,
Yotanka Coicou
©  Telling Tales   2010