Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry. She is the winner of Spillwords Press 2020 Publication of the Year (Poetic), has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She is the author of 10 poetry books.  She has recently been published in several micro-fiction anthologies and short story publications.  Christine lives in Delaware, USA.  She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and three cats. Her most recent credits are: The American Writers Review; The Phoenix; Burningword Literary Journal; Muddy River Poetry Review; The Write Connection; Ethos Literary Journal, North of Oxford, Pomona Valley Review, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Foliate Oak Review, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review, Fourth & Sycamore.

Do Not Enter

A delicate harshness,
grabs with a silken hold. 
 
Lightness of a weighted sin,
 is buried in the open earth. 
 
The blackness of a white day,
douses the fire. 
 
Winter has enveloped summer,
and the days all vanish
 in a storm of self-pity. 
 
There are no songs left
 to sing in the afterthought.
 
The sign reads clear,
an end to all hope. 
 
We continue our journey,
not knowing the way.
 
A soft sharpness conquers
those who dare to enter here. 

Shut and Locked

His heart is a door that will not open.
Hinges rusted from years of neglect.
 
Blistered paint exposes splinters
of an arduous secret past.
 
Hallway narrows as it approaches,
closing off emotions scorned.

Do not knock, he will not answer.
exiling all who dare come near.
 
A mighty barrier he has built,
bolted tight to keep love out.
 
There is no key that will unlock him,
as he hides deep within himself.
 
Shut and locked, he sits alone,
as darkness closes in. 

Night Storm Terrors

Thunder speaks in rolling drums,
awakening dark skies,
as night hides beneath her cloak.
 
Rain sings a chaotic chorus
of dramatic intensity,
pounding on rooftops.
 
Lightning plays tag
between clouds,
bringing day to night.
 
All heaven is alive with vengeance,
threatening mankind and nature.
 
Animals scurry forth to refuge,
within the forest deep.
 
 
Hiding our heads under pillows,
we seek to shut out fear.
 
Some ancient terror
lives buried within us,
warning us to flee.
 
Guarded emotions quake,
along with a trembling earth.
 
Loud electric cracks
and screaming wind,
suffer us to pray.
 
So pray we do for calm,
and an ending of the storm.