DIANNE LYNN BENANTI
The National League of American Pen Woman was founded by Henry Longfellow's niece in 1896.
Quote from their first meeting, on June 26, 1897 states;
We hope to be of mutual aid, advice and future development for each other and their careers.
I certainly found this to be true when I first signed up in 2009 at The Palm Springs Branch.
The best part about NLAPW is not only do we have monthly local meetings but if we are not able to attend, we can tap into the national website that gives you access to so many opportunities as well as meeting other members throughout the United States.
I was fortunate enough to come across a NLAPW friend from the Houston Branch. She was impressed with my work and strongly encouraged me to apply to numerous publications. It's always a blessing to be encouraged by others who have worked just as hard at their own endeavors~ Thank you, Treanor!
Below are published works and other writings.
From NLAPW PRESS Spirit, Peace and Joy~ An Anthology of Poems
UNITY
TAKE ME BY YOUR HAND
FOR IT IS SO STRONG I GAZE AT YOU WITH AMAZEMENT
HOW SOULS INTERTWINE AND GROW TO FLOWER
SHOW THE BRILLIANCE OF LOVE AND LET MY WARMTH DEVOUR
ANY DOUBT OR TROUBLE THAT STANDS BEFORE YOU
FOR YOU ARE NEVER ALONE WHEN
YOU HAVE MY HEART
SO LOOK INTO ME AND SEE THAT I GIVE YOU BACK
WHAT YOU BELIEVE
SEE THAT I SMILE WITH SIMPLICITY
SEE THAT THERE IS NO STRUGGLE WHEN THERE IS BELIEF
published image on web:
From NLAPW Press Poems of The SuperMoon
EMILY DICKINSON 1845
DEAR WOMEN
IMAGINE A LIFE WITH OPEN DREAMS
I DREAMT LAST NIGHT THAT I WAS THE GLORY OF A BLUE JAY
FLYING THROUGH THE MEADOWS
SHE TOLD ME THAT THE MORNING LIGHT SPEAKS IN MUSIC
THE TREES THEY WHISPER IN TUNE
SHE FLIES ABOVE THE CHILDREN
DANCING ON THE WAYSIDE
THEIR VOICES ARE SINGING TO THE FOOTSTEPS OF A WELL-TRODDEN PATH
THEIR THOUGHTS FEARLESS AND FREE
DEAR WOMEN
HOW MUST WE BE TODAY?
DO I NOT NEED TO COOK ME A MANS STEW?
HOW DREADFUL A FEELING TO BE TRAPPED IN A WOMENS SHOE!
WE MUST IMPLORE OURSELVES
TO SHINE LIKE SPRING ON A COLD WINTERS MORNING!
TO FLEE INTO THE NIGHT WHERE DREAMS GALLANTLY ROAM!
EVEN NOW
AS WE PUT OUR PENS TO ITS PAGE
IMAGINE
A GREAT MOON THAT SHINES WITHIN THE WILLOWS
AND THE NIGHTINGALES
WHO SING AS IF THEY WERE MADE OF HARPS!
AND IN THE MORROW
WITHIN OUR WORDS
A SUN THAT RISES UPON OUR WINDOWSILLS
IMAGINE WHAT A JOYFUL DAY THAT WOULD BE
A JOYFUL AND GRATEFUL DAY INDEED
WITH ALL MY LOVE
EMILY
NLAPW FLASH FICTION
THE WOUNDS OF A SOLDIER
HE WAS TRAINED TO STARE INTO THE EYES OF OTHERS AND WATCH THE BLOOD RUN OUT
THEY DEVOTED HIS THOUGHTS TO THE HISTORIC IDEA OF KILLING AT ANY COST
WHEN HE RETURNED HOME, HE WAS CALLED A HERO.
THEY DRAINED HIM
WITH SALUTED SALUTATIONS
HOOKED HIM ON OXYCONTIN, CLORAPAN AND OPIATES
WHICH EVENTUALLY LED TO HEROIN ON THE STREETS.
“WE BECOME WOUNDED IN THE SOUL,” HE SAID. “SOMETHING NO DRUG CAN FIX.”
HE TOLD ME ONCE THAT NO ONE SHOULD EVER COME BACK ALIVE, NO ONE.
THAT THE TRUE MERCY OF WAR WOULD BE IF NO ONE CAME BACK ALIVE.
FLASH FICTION
"THE PREACHERS WIFE"
LOVELAND, COLORADO. 1901
HE LOOKED AT HER
TOO MANY TIMES
WONDERING
HE WALKED UP TO THE PORCH
SOMEHOW KNOWING SHE WOULD BE WAITING
SHE LAYS HER HAND UPON THE PORCH SCREEN
“I CANT SAY MUCH FOR MYSELF,
BUT MY HUSBAND IS AN HONORABLE MAN
AND I PAY MY LOYALTY TO HIM"
HE CAME CLOSER
TO THE EDGE OF THE DOOR
"THOSE ARE GOOD AND DESCENT WORDS .” HE SAID
"THEY ARE WORDS I HOPE TO LIVE BY." SHE SAID
HOPE? HE SAID
POEMS
THE PINES OF ROME
WALK THROUGH THE TALL GRASS MEADOWS
SEE THE REFLECTIONS OF MY YEARS
FORCES OF NATURE
IMPRESSIONS THAT FLOW
THROUGH THE LIGHT OF THE FOREST
IN THE NIGHTINGALES GLOW
THROUGH THEIR SILHOUETTES OF SONG
THROUGH THE PINES THAT WHISPER
THE SUN THAT RISES FROM THE DARK DAYS OF TIMBER
BEHOLD MY YESTERYEAR OF PAST AND FUTURE
THROUGH THE OMINOUS GLORY OF ALL GODS NATURE
I WALK THROUGH THE WONDER OF MY HOME
THE WONDROUS PINES
THE PINES OF ROME
SUNFLOWER HILL
DARK SKINNED FACES WITH TRUMPET YELLOW CROWNS
GREEN LACED STOCKS WITH TRINKETS OF SILVER AND GOLD
A SULTRY VOICE COMES FROM ALLAH
THEY SWAY TO HER TUNE
IN THE NORTH OF THE KORDOFAN
THERE ARE SUNFLOWER HILLS
PAINTED FACES OF JOY DANCE TO
THE BEAT OF HOURGLASS DRUMS
OCTAVE LUTES AND BONGO REEDS
ORCHESTRATED
INTO
THE
SEAMS
OF THEIR LIGHT
YES GOD IS LOVE
SHE LAYS INTO HIS GROUND
AND RISES FROM THE STOCKS OF
SUNFLOWER HILLS
THE SUDANESE REJOICE IN CHANTS
ARMS STRETCHED OUT
TO GOLDEN SKIES
CIRCLED
INTO THE NILES VALLEY
WITH THE SPARKLING DUST OF
THE
RED
SEA
HILLS
YELLOW PAINTED PETALS
OF YORUBA SPRING
SINGING OUT TO THE BEAT OF A SUNFLOWER HILL
INCENSED BY THE OILS OF PERSIAN RUGS AND SANDALWOOD
COSMOS LAYS AT THEIR FEET
PERMEATING THE FREEDOM OF PEACE
IN THE NORTH OF THE KORDOFAN WE ARE SUNFLOWER HILLS SINGING TO A UNIFIED TUNE
GEISHA GIRL
BEAUTIFUL AND DARK
PAINTED SWAN LIKE EYES
SNOW COVERED SKIN DRIFTING
INTO THE PETALS OF ROSE SCARLET LIPS
DOVES FLY THROUGH THEIR HANDS
AS THEY FAN THEMSELVES TO THE THIRST OF SPLENDOR
THEIR PORCELAIN SILHOUETTES SOFTLY DANCE IN SILK
EMBROIDERED GOWNS SEWN TO AMUSE THE MYSTIC CHANTS
BOWED LUTE AND ZITHER QUINN
STRUNG BY 7 STRINGS
LINED WITH 13 HEADS OF PEARL
LEADING TO THE GEISHA
GIRL SHE PLAYS
SHAMISEN EXOTIC TONES INTO A FLOATING WORLD
OF LILAC LILIES
SILK COMBED HAIR OF EBONY
TWIRLED
INTO FLOWERING CROWNS
DRAPED CRIMSON WATERFALLS STREAM FROM HER NECK
O BEAUTIFUL GEISHA
YOU SIT ON A SHELF IN MY SISTERS ROOM
AND IT IS ONLY THROUGH THIS PEN THAT I TAKE YOU DOWN
AND TURN YOU INTO THE SPIRIT OF GEISHA
BEAUTIFUL GEISHA GIRL
