Articles written by Nancy Browne

What is Helium

About me - Nancy Browne

Hello, My name is Nancy, I am woman, wife, mother, and grandmother, stepmother, sister, aunt, and friend.
I was born and raised in Canada. I have two beautiful adopted children, a daughter and a son. My daughter has blessed me with two precious granddaughters

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Reflecting on your life: 2 of 195
DEAR HEARTDid you know?You are my museThe flimflam sputterOf inspirationThe thump, thump drumOf it allWhat is it?That you suggestIn you rhythmI know that you are weakDizzy with a love that has failedGrieved by death of your motherAs hard as you have workedI have worked as hardStill you sit, my heroEager to give me all it is y... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: My heart: 2 of 151
My Heart's AnnaShe was three weeks shyOf her third birthdayWhen they brought her to meBeautiful, sweet, little, AnnaWith lovely, blond hairCrystal-blue eyesAnd her angelic smileShe couldn't speakShe couldn't hearBut her fingers knewThe languageAnd in the weeks to followShe taught me silent wordsHer gripping hugs and gesturesU... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Halloween: 2 of 122
The Spirits RiseDemons whisperoffering the devilhis own dark nightthe day declaredafter the hallow of its evecomes to lifeyou will find the skylaced with wicked spiritseven ghosts are horrifiedthe boring eyes of a spidersuddenly take on a haunting feareerie clouds move aboutand in the wind youwill feel the wickednessSomething... More..
Arts & Humanities > Who & What is Helium Helium writer autobiographies: 2 of 72
To write even a part of an autobiography one needs to learn a few things of that person, and what makes them do what they do, thus becoming who they are. These important facts better informs the reader of situations and therefore they can better relate to the author. The year was 1955, in the sweltering heat of summer, two we... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Grief: 4 of 120
Easing GriefI have to keepreminding myselfyou are goneThe ache still sits in realitywith a private reserveof tear-jerking griefTurbulence stirsand at any given timeI miss, like I've never missed beforeAny wise one knowsthis is a prodigy of something deepersomething more gruelingthat paralyzes a heartI putmy mentality on the l... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Panic: 1 of 26
Frequent VisitorIn darknessThe moon's silhouetteShines through tree branchesCasting an eerie glowThis is the placeWhere the moon will hauntA night of no starsLeaving patched outlinesOf black cloudsHovering mysteriouslyIn thick blacknessA lone wolf criesA sound tracing shiversUp the spineA night where frightClaims its nameBeyo... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Combat: 2 of 51
Uncle JoeHe never spokeOf the warIn little bits and piecesFrom army buddiesWe knew that he hadFought on the front linesThat is all we knewHe never mouthedA word in sixty two yearsSo it came as quite a surpriseThe day I sat with himIn the hospital loungeWaiting for his wifeTo come through surgeryOut of the blueHe spoke of the ... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Courage: 2 of 50
With so much fear, you movedSilent and aloneIn and around and though itWith so many obstacles to moveWilled and stubbornYou climbed and fell and rose againWith so little strengthWeary and frailYou pushed and pulled and crossed the lineWith so little resourcesEdgy and anxiousYou picked up books and became a libraryWith so much... More..
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Sorrow: 1 of 25
The first time I saw death I was ten years old. Her name was Joanne Sherman. She was ten like the rest of us in our grade five class. One day we got news from the principal that Joanne took ill and we must pray for her. Mother Mary dedicated the "The Lords Prayer" with Joanne's name attached to the ending. We recited it every... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Clocks: 1 of 24
Suppose, That's Why They Call It An Alarm ClockTime and placeNot quite what they wereShe will acknowledge thisIn her poetic therapyRead between the linesIt will jump out at youLike a coiled springThe venom time measuredAnd clock-poisonedTime and placeNot quite what they wereWords to convey itEmotions to fryThey hang on every ... More..