Shine … but shine to be a poem. Richard Grove … busily write poetry… Kim Grove Towards the light. Don Gutteridge … where the fruit hangs… in the heat. Patrick Lane The sun polishes the trees with golden shine warming the fruit to the kernel. Painting-like highlights of yellow lure me, graveled earth feels good beneath my feet lulled silence embraces. Poetry is a danseuse, barefoot. Flames glint in her eyes while she dances to the rhythm of my quill. I surrender to her, to the shine enveloping me – these words...
38