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No finer parchment than The surface of your mind Skin on which I have written My most erotic poetry, words Graven deep into the most Sensitive parts of your being, Until my penned desires cover The entirity of the cherished Book which is you, the paper Upon which I pour beloved ink. • Donovan Baldwin

Call me poet for I wander lost byways Of mortality and mind, Gathering cast off Images and impressions, Stowed away willy-nilly In the pack upon my back Where a genie resides Transmuting piles of Fleeting flowing realities, Binding them to print, Random words pretending To be poetry. • Donovan Baldwin

In solitude I contemplate The sounds I hear and feel A crow caws, coos, and rattles A top a neighboring tree I wonder what it’s saying And why it insistently calls As if seeking its murder Perhaps just perfecting its song  Then joins a barking distant dog To which mine joins along And suddenly the quiet day Breaks into joyous song

Can you be a girl again, A happy child, In love with dandelions and butterflies, Dreaming of knights in armor, And iridescent dragons, Before the world turned gray, Forced you to become a woman, With dreams pushed down, Pleasure denied... Can you be a girl again? May I help? • Donovan Baldwin

Nothing is as sweet As the first time we meet And start that ancient ritual With that first kiss. In the dark or is it bright That first touching just feels right Eyes open, lips apart The loud beating of two hearts.

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This is a great imaginative story of a journey and contest between two totally different and opposing worlds. Particularly, the love and the quest to serve justice to victims of violence or abuse, which is no wonder; reflects the author’s experience with survivors of domestic and sexual violence. There may be some other reasons to capture this story in rather a strange and mystical place such as Herrick’s End, but I strongly feel that; the author is trying to bring us to imagine and see that; there is a secretive, hidden, and unknown world that exists for the victims and survivors of such violence. Ollie Delgato’s journey from the Northern End of Brickside, all the way to the Herrick’s End of the Neath, shows us that; this secretive underworld or mystical place is created based on the constant struggle faced by victims of family-related violence and abuse. This constant struggle is the outcome of our society’s inactions, oppressions, insecurity, threat, or any other similar conditions that prevent justice to be served to those victims. He started off as an innocent, unsuspecting, and loving friend, but eventually grows to become a hero of justice at the end. This may, in other words, shows us that; many victims of family-related violence and abuses get themselves into these troubles innocently and unsuspectingly, because of love. They don’t know what will happen because they are blinded by love and then when their loving world becomes the opposite, they become its victims. A situation that they have created by themselves. But, under such circumstances, under that blind love and our society’s inactions, oppressions, insecurity, or threats; they can fight for justice, for themselves, and their loved ones, if they do something and take action. The settings of the contents of the book through the Prologue keep me wondering with interest how the initial ancient scenes will connect with the modern settings of the story when I started reading the first chapters. But as the story reaches the part on the Freedom Trail, I started getting the idea that; it will be the change of scenes into something mystical or ancient. If similar connections have been developed and established on the book chapters’ titles with specific story topics, rather than just the use of numbers, then I think it will be more engaging and well-connected. Yet, I give it a rating of 5 stars, because it is a great imaginative story that reflects the 2 types of worlds that exist for the victims of one of our society’s major social problems. One is the world that many may seem to portray to the public and the community in which they live under the auspice of normal and loving family life. And another is the world that exists under the banner of blind and unsuspecting love, where there is abuse and violence and where victims are constantly struggling for justice in solitude. A justice to problems, they have somehow created by themselves.

fragments of her shattered soul - potter molds anew diamond in the rough no more - tempered by the flames a strengthening of her spirit- the vessel made whole the angel walks on embers - angels feel no pain copyright L. G. Rogers 12-29-22

I’m feeling good I want to play But he’s asleep Worked hard today! I let down my hair But you don’t see So I’m writing poetry Alone! Alone gives me time A quiet writing space A stranger appears A master, a writer. Connected in words Conjuring heat Kindred twisted egos Happy to meet! This feels good Posing for his pen …I look around I’m still alone!

It's not the color of your lips, It's what they have to say, If your eyes be blue, green, or brown I'd love you anyway. The color of your skin, Also matters not to me, Nor the type of clothes you wear, Tight bound or fancy free. You can have the biggest bust, Or one that's rather small, I'm not just going to love that part, I hope to love you all. Your bottom can be curvy, Or perhaps a trifle flat, That's fine because, you see my love, That's not what I'm looking at. Fashion says how you should look, If a fool, you heed and listen, But, when I hold you in my arms, It won't be "fashion" that I'm kissin'. I want a woman in my arms, Who just wants to be right there. When it comes to height or weight, I can't say I really care. Age is not a factor, Nor if you have much wealth. Although I must admit, that I have a thing for health. If you can hug me tightly, After I've acted like an ass, Then open up your arms for me, And become my charming lass. • Donovan Baldwin

Man uses wood without seeing The spark inside the living being The flowing sap and tender core Cleansing air, water and more    Below the soil, symbiotic truth mycorrhizal web joined at root mutualistic defenses to defend Attacks from pests and pathogens Arboreal beings who share the earth Forgive us humans, huddled at hearth Warmed and lighted in the dark Grateful for your endless bark  If we could only see your face And share in your collective space That binds all trees; holds them tight To withstand, withhold and stand upright I gaze in awe below your dome In woods that circle my own home I pray you feel me standing here  With everlasting love… for trees Susan Smoter - Octiber 7, 2023

Where leads this beckoning road, This silent, time-worn street? Does it lead to secret places, where Angels and demons meet? Or, does it fade with forward steps, And slowly cease to be? Perhaps it reaches unknown lands, Which I am doomed to never see. Yet I cannot long each road ignore, Nor allow my steps to turn, From each strange path to somewhere, And something I must learn. • Donovan Baldwin