Dear Ed.
I have been submitting poetry short stories and artwork for the past several years. I began writing when I was ten years old, my grandparents gave me my first typewriter. I have written 102 books of poetry and 18 novels over the past Four or five years. I have published 604 poems, 498 short stories and 108 pieces of art in over 184 periodicals, anthologies and books as well as in six radio broadcasts. I love to write and nothing thrills me more than seeing my work in print.
*Website-SwampLit (RonnieWK.weebly.com)
*Website-Shadows at Night-Tide (Shadowsatnighttide.weebly.com)
* Website- WolfFray.blogspot.com
* Website-Ravenswont.blogspot.com,
*E-Magazine/Website- FarthermostDream.blogspot.com
*Website-Mirageinblame.blogspot.com
*E-Magazine/website-Ethrealsouls.blogspot.com
Sincerely
Ron Koppelberger
Ron Koppelberger
Brandy Wine
Cultivated by the birth of quiet reserve and parallels in
Desire, in wont. A find in essential parapets of stone
And entrance to decline, an unencumbered
Momentum defined by the eyes of maiden fray
And flaw, by signatures in dust and selfless
Oblivion, initiated in castles and chateaus’, in cool
Crystal goblets framed by flags and brandy wine.
Ron Koppelberger
Rebel Sash
Arrival and ambition’s daisy, dressed in saffron allure,
Speckled in ash and nascent survival,
The destiny of indulgent grace, retraced breaths of
Sweetened revolution and qualities of eternal bloom,
The facets of distinct character and
Invocation to romance, the better most temper,
Fleeting in shadowy umbrae’ of gray, a rebel sash
Justified by love and passionate earth.
Ron Koppelberger
A Wild Array of Thorns
The berth of innocent blessings in accepted
Experiences of conscious proclamation and profound
Sustaining being, as unfinished blooms of solace and scented
Desire, in rare spheres of revolution, by curves and tender lips aflame,
The uncommon touch of what’s bidden by roses and dusty dreams, a wild array of thorns nascent and silhouetted by the blood,
The fertile souls in salvation and
Enchanting loves in
Ivory frill, in
Secret availing
Bliss.
Ron Koppelberger
In Twilights Eyes
Ground by the moted dust of whirling delirium and gasping sighs
Of elation, a wild eyed assent exciting the vigor of
Wondrous glee and smudged panes of glass, leading the vision of ancient
Passions and freedoms in gloss, by the light of an accomplice sun torn unto bleeding skies and expectant in twilight fire, by creations in
Distant reverie’ and quietly acclaimed followings of sparrow will,
By the comfort of legends beloved, by taboo and real realms
Of earth, resolved by the passage of moments
Spent in serene repose and thrust forward
By the promises of wandering hearts.
Ron Koppelberger
The wont of survival
Blossoms in desiring talents of renewal and
More than a spirit of hasty heaven in glowing sobriety,
The profuse legend of hallowed grain and garner,
Of endless sunset crushes
In velvet adornment and eager art, the tireless existence
Of constant ritual and peppered looms
Of forgiveness and twill eternal, the cry abeyant
Unto the wont of
Survival.
