Charles Crisp
The author began writing poems and prose dating back to the early '80's. This book features many of those as well as more recent ones.
The Section "From the Heart" has love, romance and heartache as well as inspirational offerings sprinkled throughout.
The "Seasons" Section will truly be enjoyed by Nature lovers everywhere.
The Section "Angels and Bluebirds" should appeal to those who believe in them.
"Musings and Reflections" has dashes of humor and wit. Dead End Streets and The One That Got Away read like real life events.
"Regional Thoughts" provides a glimpse of the author's upbringing in Western North Carolina.
Hopefully in the pages of this book each reader will find certain events, occasions, thoughts, or insights relevant to experiences and feelings of their own.
Grew up in Asheville, N. C. Educated in Buncombe County Schools, graduated Clyde Erwin High in 1961. Attended Fruitland Institute, Hendersonville, N. C., Charlotte State and Andersonville Baptist Seminary in Camilla, Ga. Now resides in Moore, S. C.
Retired from R. L. Polk & Co. Publishers, in Richmond, Va. 1994.
Began writing Poetry and Prose and meanderings about events, people, places and things in the early 80's. Understands that only Frost can write like Frost. McKuen writes like McKuen the same for all the other gifted and talented Poets. "My work" is simply my work, whatever that might be. "Hopefully, many will enjoy and relate to it."
The leaves of Fall, with their colors of Scarlet, Gold, Red, Yellow and even Brown are simply gorgeous, on the trees and those that have fallen to the ground
We used to walk among the shed remains feeling the crackle under our feet But now I walk alone, not noticing any sound For without you, the silence is complete
One by one they spoke their lines at just the right moment and all in perfect harmony causing us the audience to gasp, then applaud as the curtain fell upon Act III
You did not come to see me when I was at my best arising early and straightening up I put on the coffee and sat down to rest
Hearing a sound on the back porch I hurried to the door It was only leaves rustling and dancing across the wooden floor
