About me - Sandra Bell Kirchman

I was born in...okay, we don't need to go that far back. Let's just say I was born and move on from there. My earliest remembered writing was a five-page novel, entitled "Angus the Ant," when I was seven years old. I mourn the loss of it somewhere in the

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Friendship

PEOPLE LIKE YOU It's people like you who see the stars And know the sky won't end People like you who ride in cars For the fun around the bend People like you who taste the joy In the air, in the sky, in the world People like you who are never coy Who sail with their flags unfurled People like you who know deep love Who shar...

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Death of a loved one

LAMENT FOR CHAD My grief will crush me if I yield... I can't believe you're gone; You wanted just the right to live... Those monsters cut you down. A bright young soul, a half-grown man, Searched with grins and joy, And those who did not have the right Slew you...still a boy... My tears can't stop...my throat aches so, My he...

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Humorous

A DRAGON'S BELCH "Don't burp," my mother told to me, I thought it best to heed, When I was just a little lad And barely on my feed. "Don't belch, my son, close mouth," she said, I sealed my lips with tape; I held my breath and crunched my teeth So not a puff escaped. "Refrain from breathing heavily; "These mortals are so fra...

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Childhood memories

THE LONGEST WAIT The longest time I ever waited Probably makes me seem outdated 'Twas waiting for the day of Yule And waiting time just seemed too cruel It's only 20 sleeps, she said My mother dear who's now long dead You only have to wait that long Before you hear the Yuletide gong 19, 18, 17, ack I couldn't wait to see tha...

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Fantasy

DRAGON SEARCHING... Lofting hard against the blazing sun Leathery wings wafting the heated air Back draft...motionless in space... Searching Great yellow orbs searching the terrain Espying, dipping lower, discarding Not the goal...not the journey's end... Moving on Spirits sagging, always moving on... Elation dims...low spir...

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Reflections

FROM A RECOVERING MELANCHOLIC... I was melancholy, because life seemed too hard I was melancholy, because life seemed too frail I was disconsolate because I strove too much I was melancholy because I feared to fail... The burden of my future weighed quite heavily The pain of my past kept me blue And yet underneath there was ...

Creative Writing > Humor Humor: Life

THE MOUSE EPISODE We are pretty much settled into our new home, and we love it, despite the mouse episode. Oh, didn't I tell you about the mouse episode? Okay...well, I was sitting at my computer...late September...nice warm day. I was actually being good and writing at my novel, when I saw a movement out of the corner of my...

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: When I think of you

VERY EARLY MORNING THOUGHTS OF LOVE More and more often, my sweet man, I feel so much a part of you... it's not a strain anymore to know what you are thinking and feeling... so often I feel exactly the same way, and I am trusting it more and more. There is so much in us that calls to the other. The love is getting quieter, a...

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Nonsense

DOTH NOT A CUBE... Doth not a cube have feelings? When pricked, doth it not bleed, and when hurt, doth it not shed tears? What mockery is this of the saintly Cube, The giver of square edges and depth perception? What banal jousting with words dispenses with the Cube, nay, banishes it to the realm of triteness, ordinary thoug...

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: On love

NO SCHOOLGIRL CRUSH... No sissy, wussy, schoolgirl crush is this... So let the love chimes ring both sweet and slow... The telephone communicates your kiss... The air is static with our loving glow... No simpering, silly, half-baked fad is this... When every night your arms surround me thus. In my experience, real life will ...


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