Writers' Corner

If you have a poem, song lyrics or a short story and you would like to share it with the readers of The Statesman now is your chance.

Email or mail us your submission and look for it in an upcoming issue of The Statesman.
IT'S BEDTIME
Close your weary eyes, my darling,
Drift off to slumber land.
When morning comes I'll be here.
I want to know what you found in Dream Land.
It will be fun, my pretty one,
To hear what it was all about.
We'll have a really great time,
Maybe we'll sing and dance, maybe even shout.
So close your pretty brown eyes
And drift off to sleep.
I'll be here by your side,
I'll be quiet and not even make a peep.
By Grandma Louise Howard,
submitted by Thomas Howard

AS THE DAY GOES BY

As the day goes by my anxiety keeps growing. I am not sure if I should tell you my feelings for you. I am afraid of what people may say. All I know is that in my heart all I want to say is "I love you."

by Bertha Lopez
MY HUSBAND
He is smart.
He thinks he's cool.
He really loves his wife.
He would never hurt her.
He listens.
He helps anyone.
He cares for children.
He works hard.
He is my friend.
He is God's servant.
by Katrina Edwards

How Does your romantic evening begin?
How does your romantic evening begin?
Have you taken out the trash and the recycleables?
Did you lock up the car and close the windows?
Did you clean the ferret litterbox today?
Are all of the groceries put away?
How does your romantic evening begin?
Did you remember to write out the check for the
sewer bill?
Did you clean out the dishwasher after supper?
Did you unload the washer and start the dryer?
Is the house locked up tight?
How does your romantic evening begin?
I remember when it was getting ready for a date.
I remember when it was wondering what dress to
wear.
I remember when it was worrying if my hair would
dry.
Is all of that a faded dream to me now?
How does your romantic evening begin?
If you can't remember ... perhaps it is time
To start a new routine to create a magical mood.
To stop and smell the roses ... or better yet,
To stop on your way home from work,
And buy her some roses!
by Linda Amos