Join Me: A Golden Shovel
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
—John Lennon’s “Imagine”
This is my wish for you
it is full of hope and may
explain why I feel the need to say
I don’t listen to naysayers when I'm
searching for wisdom, I know a dreamer
will guide me, and you, to understand, but
I could be wrong, I’m not perfect, I'm
not
saying what I’m seeing is the only
way we can unite and evolve as one
it’s a dream, a prayer, a plea, I hope
my voice, your voice, our voice will someday
serenade like a choir of strength, you'll
join
me and through this symphony, all of us
can satiate the unsatisfied and
a content human race will fill the world
with peace and harmony, and we will
look at each other as equals and live
on this tiny planet together as one
Tell It Slant: A Golden Shovel
Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
—Emily Dickinson
there is a story she is told to tell
it sits in the attic and waits for all
the unfaithful who blacken the truth
she knows time is running out but
there is a story she is told to tell
about the monster who lives among us, it
is straightforward, but the tale took a slant
from being secreted so long, its only success
is through the hidden trapdoor she uses in
circuit
training a folly from France where the true
story lies
Humpback
Whale Song
dinosaurs
of the sea
survivors
of ancient history
use whale
language
to
share an inherited past
clicks.
grunts. whistles
squeaks.
groans. moans
string of sounds
like choruses and undersongs
short notes
ascend
leaving
an echo trail
of serenade
and
sonic
sequences
their tones amplify
evolving over time
into a melodic song
for an underworld society
In Ocean Grove, down the Jersey Shore
sits a Victorian mansion with a
sanctuary spirit
bestowing the gift of community on women
with cancer
who seldom stop to take care of
themselves
here, sisters bond in camaraderie
against a common foe
and step into a respite from daily
routines
minds unclutter upon entering this
home filled
with sea glass and salted air,
inducing easy breathing
time slows, shoulders drop, eyes
soften
pressure releases, and exhaustion
gradually fades away
one experiences nourishment beyond the
palate
relishes relaxation, savors smiles,
and finds friendships
after a few days, the mind-body-soul
realigns
gifting all who visit a precious
souvenir to take home and treasure
…the 19th century Methodists’ flagship camp
meeting town sits at the intersection of spiritual and secular history. Trains
transported parishioners to this shore locale, setting into motion summer
vacationing in camp tents constructed from canvas left over from the Civil War.
A frugal way to memorialize the conflict. Men and women, young and old, enjoyed
spending time together, bicycling around town, playing croquet, and worshipping
as one. Preservation of its Victorian homes earned Ocean Grove a prestigious
place in America’s history. The homes’ pierced
frieze boards, scrolled brackets, and braced arches, painted in a contrasting
color palette of pale yellow, cream, light gray, and soft blue/green, highlight
their whimsical gingerbread architecture. Tiny wooden cottages with canvas tent coverings still surround the Great Auditorium, parceling out a
unique Atlantic Ocean seascape.
the
air smells
of salt,
tanning oil, and incense
…church
bells ring
Laura Daniels (she/her) is a neurodivergent poet and editor of The Fringe 999 Poetry Forum. Recently curated in Gyroscope Review, One Art, and the Journal of New Jersey Poets, and recipient of the 2025 Allen Ginsberg Poetry Honorable Mention Award. She facilitates a free, monthly international online writing workshop through Mary's Place by the Sea for women whose lives have been touched by cancer. Her poetry collection Gentle Grasp (Kelsay Books) is available on Amazon, and her chapbook Jersey Baked is available through Four Feathers Press (https://fourfeatherspress.blogspot.com). She resides with her partner in Mt Arlington, NJ.
Follow her at https://lauradanielswriter.wordpress.com.
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