Bøger udgivet af 1st World Library - Literary Society

Anique Sara Taylor's chapbook Civil Twilight is Winner of the 2022 Blue Light Poetry Prize. As the sun sinks 6˚ below the horizon at dawn or dusk, it's 5:30am/pm someplace in the world. In thirty shimmering poems (30 words/5 lines each), Civil Twilight probes borders of risk across a landscape of thunderstorms, quill-shaped mist, falcons that soar, the hope of regeneration, a compass to the center. Tightly hewn poems ring with rhythm and sound, follow ghosts who relentlessly weave through a journey of grief toward ecstasy. Spinning words seek to unhinge inner wounds among seashells and hostile mirrors, eagles and cardinals-to enter "the infinity between atoms," hear the invisible waltz. Even the regrets. The search for an inner silhouette becomes a quest for shards of truth, as she asks the simple question, "What will you take with you?"

Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - - - No golden eagle, warm from the stamping press of the mint, ismore sharply impressed with its image and superscription thanwas the formative period of our government by the genius andpersonality of Thomas Jefferson.Standing on the threshold of the nineteenth century, no onewho attempted to peer down the shadowy vista, saw moreclearly than he the possibilities, the perils, the pitfalls and theachievements that were within the grasp of the Nation. Nonewas inspired by purer patriotism. None was more sagacious,wise and prudent, and none understood his countrymenbetter.........

Hi there, Low Bull, ruste [Transcriber's note: rustle?] around the other way and round up them steers! Hustle now! What's the matter with you? Want to go to sleep on the trail? Billy Carew, foreman of the Triple O ranch, addressed these remarks to a rather ugly-looking Indian, who was riding a pony that seemed much too small for him. The Indian, who was employed as a cowboy, was letting his steed amble slowly along, paying little attention to the work of rounding up the cattle. "Come now, Low Bull, get a move on," advised the foreman. "Make believe you're hunting palefaces," he added, and then, speaking in a lower tone he said: "this is the last time I'll ever hire a lazy Indian to help round-up." "What's the matter, Billy?" asked a tall, well-built lad, riding up to the foreman.