Author Erin L George

Erin L George is a freelance writer and editor from Southern New Hampshire. An award-winning journalist, George's work has been published in national anthologies and magazines since 1995. She is author of the poetry chapbooks Dandelion Dance and Insideout. She's also edited the poetry anthologies Cafe Musings, Under the Willow Tree and No Apologies.

George is also author of Maxine the Rainbow Cow, Maxine and Ben, and Cupid Cow for kids! She is currently editing her memoirs, 99 Bottles of Beer on my Counter, coming in 2011 or 2012. A regular contributor to writerscafe.org, George serves as a mentor to younger writers. Her blog, A Writer's Life: One Letter at a Time features highlights from a writing life. Excerpts from her book, Desperately Seeking Employment, was recently featured in The Common newspaper under the pen name Erin Lee. Most recently, her work was published in Savant Pubications Wavelengths poetry anthology - now available at amazon.com.

George is a member of the Monadnock Writers Group and Write Action Brattleboro. She spends her free time in graduate school, working as a home care provider, and on the soccer and football fields with her children - making wishes on dandelions.

Erin is now helping other writers to get published. Offering editing, layout, and cover design services to writers looking to see their work published. For more information, click the link below!

Featuring poetic writings of Erin L George and several other talented writers. Perfect beach reading. Let the waves roll in!
Available at amazon.com.
Get your early copy at https://www.createspace.com/3659558

 

 

Words

I chew on

curling my tongue

around them. Tart and sweet

at once as I search for the perfect dash -

smelling of Spring and the potential in manure.

They dance in my nose, causing me to ask myself:

What is it that you're craving? (A fried bologna sandwich).

I am transfixed by the twists in their form. Some long and awkward,

others short and to the point. A drop out poet might call them "right on."

Ink stains the page in familiar patterns and I remember back to the time before

I could read them. Where they were like great mysteries. Finding joy in decoding them

like crosswords I play with now on Sundays with green tea, blueberries, and Life cereal.

(We serve pulpy citrus juice and kisses at exactly 11 a.m.) It's then that I wonder,

how did I ever live without them? They wake me in the heart of night, begging

as I reach for my glasses and purple pen. Rain-checking them into the page.

"I can hear you. Yes, I will look you up. Yes. I will call back Monday"

when the kids are off to school and the house is still. To do. To do.

I finger them, chasing their strong lines and whimsy, blissful.

(Never one afraid to stare out a window daydreaming).

They are fuzzy and warm. They understand, agree,

like childhood friends living parallel lives

and hopelessly waiting for

Mondays where they'll

play with

words.