The Tiny Family By John Bliven Morin

The Tiny Family By John Bliven Morin Down past the roses in the flow’ring dell live a very tiny family in a walnut shell; You may pass them by and never know, for they’re very, very small in their bungalow. Papa is proud and a little fat as he putters in the garden in a […]

The Ghoul Poem By John Bliven Morin

Stranger, who art thou passing here tonight? Hast thou no fear? Come not to graveyards in the night when the half-moon, pale and dim, gives light; The witching moon ‘tis called, or horned, once sacred to the Druids, adorned in white, who called with darkest spell fearsome demons out of hell, and some of these […]