Articles written by Sheri Fresonke Harper - Page 3

Where Knowledge Rules

What is Helium

About me - Sheri Fresonke Harper

Sheri's a science fiction writer, poet and photographer. Her most recent work has appeared in Dragons, Knights and Angels; Whispering Spirits; Kinships; Yellow Mama; Shine and Kaleidotrope. She's a Judy's Book City Editor; writes articles and blogs; critiques

+ more bio information

RSS Feed

Education > College Life How to create the perfect dorm room: 16 of 30
A first glance at a dorm room will probably surprise most first time college students with the utilitarian dorm room decoration theme. Bare bone rooms lack carpet, require a visit to a shared bathroom, lack privacy, and have rules about the use of nails. Students soon learn that a comfortable room attracts visitors. But not ... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Autumn leaves: 66 of 121
Autumn Leaves The spaces where I wrote your name, wrote mine, wrote history. The crinkle and crackle of pages, of footsteps, of stuffing into bags. The corner of the yard, where hanging boughs droop toward earth, where we picnicked for laughter and chopped out debris. The glory of golden hued evenings settled to dusk. The se... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Lords & ladies: 36 of 64
Let's bow to his lordship with his stiff collar and polished boots, Let's curtsy to her ladyship with bustle and petticoats, Let's shove them into a corner of a cold and rocking stagecoach, Let's sigh and lower our eyes at their near royal approach. Let's offer our hand and twirl them around the decorated ball room. Let's fl... More..
Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: My fall wedding: 7 of 12
My Fall Wedding I'm normally quite organized, but my wedding nearly defeated me. I adored my fiancee and met him at work and then felt awkward about continuing to do so. So, I quit my job and went on my honeymoon. Now, you're probably scratching your head wondering just how is it that I went on a honeymoon prior to the weddi... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Don't pity me: 92 of 148
Don't pity me, cries the modern day Joan of Arc as the nuclear warhead crashes down on some unsuspecting city. Pity the unborn children who never had the chance to see day. Pity the burns on the citizens escaping the blaze. Pity the babes drinking radioactive milk. Pity the trees burned by drifting poisonous clouds. . Don't ... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Difficult people: 78 of 125
I've met them all exasperated by people. . The man with the coin purse slowing my checkout. . The woman with the strident voice demanding my seat. . The wife that wouldn't let go crying to everyone she could meet. . The child that never stopped crying, red faced and teary and breaking my heart. . The guard at the plantation,... More..
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Moonlit walk: 30 of 47
The Sun's Own Walk Under Moonlight His brother Mancho cheated, Huaman thought, his hand gripping hard on his staff. A completely selfish man. How else bear the pain? Then the rock strewn trail flattened into a grassy lee. Huaman motioned halt for the night. Little Flower-beside-River settled at the center. While his men buil... More..
Health & Fitness > Aging & Longevity Tips for coping with forgetfulness in old age: 10 of 15
As you age, your ability to remember such things as facts, schedule information, and directions will likely reduce. If memory has never been one of your strong points, aging will increase the problem. But don't despair; I have some helpful tips learned from one of the brightest minds I know, my husband, since he knows he doe... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Hitchhiking: 47 of 69
My car coughed and choked, groaning up the hill, I clenched my fists and said "come on, come on, "don't die on me in this traffic", don't tunr me into road kill. . And sure enough my old jalopy, coughed and choked and made it up the hill where the traffic light turned red and choked off once more and stopped good and dead. .... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Wild & free: 104 of 152
Bamboo rises high overhead, the twitch of a tail says I'll soon be dead, I scurry for my hole deep in the sand find elephants blocking my escape route planned. . Eyes so yellow, feral and wild, whiskers that twitch, sharp teeth reviled, I shudder to think I'm the next dinner the carcass I pass revealing its innards . suggest... More..