Ann Christine Tabaka (USA)

Exclusive: European poetry: Curated by Agron Shele
Ann Christine Tabaka (USA)
Ann Christine Tabaka has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and three cats. Her most recent credits are: Pomona Valley Review; Ariel Chart, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, Oddball Magazine, The Paragon Journal, The Stray Branch, Trigger Fish Critical Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, Anapest Journal, Mused, Apricity Magazine, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, Scryptic Magazine, Ann Arbor Review, The McKinley Review.
*(a complete list of publications is available upon request)


The dream becomes real
before my eyes.
Golden sunrise,
blazing vermillion sunsets,
lush green savannahs.
I have witnessed all.
Great Rift Valley,
Cradle of Mankind,
prehistoric memories
reverberate throughout.
At Lake Nakuru,
a thousand diamonds dance
as flamingos march the shoreline
of shallow water.
Breathless rush of wings
rising from the marshes.
Leopards crouch in wait,
while mischievous baboons
and monkeys tease from above.
Crowded villages filled
with friendly smiling faces,
and the laughter of children
playing ancient games.
Amazing sights, creatures,
landscapes and people,
cataloged forever in my mind.
A journey of the heart fulfilled.
The dream becomes real
before my eyes.

Asking Directions

How do you know
which way to turn,
when you come
to the fork in the road?
Directions notwithstanding,
can you ever know
the right path?
Life is filled with obstacles
that none of us comprehend,
yet we continue on
until the end, never knowing
where we began.
We do what we can,
and along the way,
we may make a friend or two,
if we do not fear to ask directions.

Lost in Time

Sometimes life goes thundering
past at a blinding speed, loosing
all concept of time. The tasks and
chores that fill our lives seem an
unending litany of busyness.
Missing the sweetness that a
moment allows, the day drifts
on in breaths and sighs. Stop,
step back, open your eyes. Wrap
yourself in the wonder of now,
for in a moment it will be gone.
vanished with a whisper, like the
morning mist evaporating in the
warmth of the newly risen sun.
Hold on to each breath and allow
it to fill you with the beauty that is
before you. We are only here for
an instant, then we fade along
with lost memories hidden among
the cobwebs of space and time.

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