Blue Vibrations

22 Oct

by Crystal Howe

Blue is my favorite color,

Though I really can’t say why.

I’ve never seen the ocean,

The flowers or the sky,

The hue of sweetest berries,

Or my child’s sparkling eyes.

But blue’s my favorite color,

And maybe I know why:

The peace of its vibration,

The healing it provides,

The grace so all-embracing,

A deeper touch than sight.

O blue’s my favorite color,

A blessing of the Light!


Crystal Howe has been legally blind since birth and lost all light perception at age 12, after a difficult struggle with Glaucoma. She is an ordained minister with a Doctorate Degree in  Metaphysical Science. Crystal especially enjoys songwriting, poetry, weaving, and trying new coffee  flavors.

Think Autumn, Think Color

11 Oct

Two new poems by Nancy Scott.  Feel the color!


Sunday is brown

seeds of reading and TV, eating

too much and calling long distance.


Monday is white

space for lists and ledgers, guilts

and promises of the busy and brave.


Tuesday is black

ink and thinking

even if your computer talks.


Wednesday is orange

flame of waiting and impatience.


Thursday is red

accounting for cross-outs and surprise

or blue accounting for not understanding


Friday is green

pay-off and fruit

for all to see


Saturday is pink or purple or yellow

depending on whim or preference



AUTUMN AIR for Carole

Poets know fall sounds clearest.

We hear geese fly—

skeins of high, V-shaped leaving

even through closed windows.

Half-time bands reverb

off houses we’ve lived in for years,

defining solidity and reminding

that drums can be heard from a distance.

Leaves crunch and schoolchildren run,

late again

lured by night sounds and atmosphere.


I thought I alone

heard one autumn cricket sing

beyond my screen

until you wrote

your late-October soloist.

Do these solitary minstrels

favor poets’ yards

or is this chance or curse

heard by anyone listening

for muffled, crack-crystal winter?


Nancy Scott, Easton, PA, is a blind essayist and poet. Her over 600 bylines have appeared in magazines, literary journals, anthologies and newspapers, and as audio commentaries. An essayist and poet, she has published three chapbooks. She won First Prize in the 2009 International Onkyo Braille Essay Contest. Recent work appears in Breath and Shadow, Contemporary Haibun Online, and Stone Voices.


26 Sep

by Valerie Moreno

I stand alone

shivering in chilly,

condescending winds of



You are “too busy”

to give me a chance,

look at me as a

person instead of a

symbol of blindness.


You won’t meet me

half-way, I feel it

like a hard slap against my cheek.

Rejection stings for a time,

reminding me to appreciate my self…


Again, I gather my strength,

assess my ability,

believing someone wiser will

 accept who I am.


Valerie Moreno is 59 and a published writer. She writes poetry, memoir, fiction and articles. Her eye disease is ROP (Retinopathy of Prematurity. Some favorite hobbies include reading, raised line drawing, music and singing.

What a Feeling!

16 Sep

by Andrea Kelton

The easel

Holds a painting

Featuring a free-form tree

Under an explosive yellow sun.


The artist

Brush in hand

Stands back

Admiring her masterpiece.


Satisfaction bubbles


Glee gushes and rushes

Through her four-year-old body.


Andrea glows with wonder

At this treasure she’s created.


Emotions explode

As she discovers


Doing art

Creates bliss.


Andrea Kelton was diagnosed with uveitis at 24. Her diverse artistic life included photography and ceramics.  She taught pottery in her own Chicago storefront studio for 15 years.  Andrea attends a memoir writing class taught by author, Beth Finke.

The Place Where She Flew Away

9 Sep

by Sharon Tewksbury

When I left that dusty little town,

Where the tumbleweeds rolled, and the cactus grew,

I thought I’d set the world on fire,

With all the things I thought I knew!


I still remember that childhood sidewalk,

Leading to the shack I called home,

The lawn chairs sitting by the front door,

Where I sat when daddy was gone.


How many days did I sit in them and dream?

How many nights did I plan on the day?

when my restlessness would fuel my wings

And I would go far away.


I remember the parched West Texas ground,

I felt like I would never walk on it again,

I’d never taste the desert rain

Or hear the early morning wind.


But now, how different it is for me,

47 years have quickly passed,

Family are passing friends are leaving,

Did I really think temporary would last?


Time is going by, change writes destiny,

And The little shack is not there now,

But the weathered old fence stands defying time’s touch,

Though I don’t really know just how.


And that young girl still lives inside of me,

Her presence I feel each day,

Like an eagle she flew but she came back down,

To the place where she flew away.


Sharon Tewksbury, was born blind in the early fifties. She had cataracts before birth, was born prematurely and was in an incubator for eight weeks. Oxygen and bright lights made what vision she had leave at an expedient rate. This poem was written to share that although some sighted folks might think the blind have missed out, nothing could be further from the truth.

Songbird Sing

25 Aug

by Crystal L. Howe

Soaring high above the clouds

Of chaos in my mind,

I know there is a song to sing

With words I cannot find.


I hunt and peck and try in vain

To force the music out

And feel the pangs of harsh regret

That feed the fire of doubt.


The time has come to let it go

And set the songbird free!

For only when the spirit soars

Can any songbird sing!


I learn to find the hidden nest

Of peace within my mind,

Where love consoles and lifts me over

All the thoughts that bind.


There are no words to look for here,

No melody to sing;

The music of this sacred place

The Spirit plays within.


So, take the time to let it go

And set the songbird free!

For only when the spirit soars

Can you, the songbird, sing!

Crystal has been legally blind since birth and lost all light perception at age 12, after a difficult struggle with Glaucoma. She is an ordained minister with a Doctorate Degree in Metaphysical Science. Crystal especially enjoys songwriting, poetry, weaving, and trying new coffee flavors. (You can listen to or download this song at the following link:

No Face in the Mirror

11 Aug

by Marcia J. Wick

Stumbling over my guide dog, I make my way to the bathroom getting ready to meet a new day. But I cannot see how I will greet the day, even though I am standing in front of the mirror. The reflection of my face in the mirror is disappearing due to my progressive vision loss.

Whether I start my day feeling like death warmed over, or I wake refreshed and ready to put my best face forward, it is the same reflection I see. Soft and fuzzy at the edges. Clouds and vapor off which the light bounces and flickers. Pixilated glimpses at a part of my nose and expressionless orbits for eyes. No use worrying about plucking my eyebrows or checking for blemishes.

Although my days are dimming, there is a silver lining. Not seeing how I look in the mirror presents an unexpected opportunity for me to use my mind’s eye.  I tell myself, “You look great!” My fading image forces me to let go of judgments I might heap upon myself if I could actually make out my finer features.

My progressive vision loss helps to keep my steady aging process at bay, at least as far as I can see! Staring ahead while brushing my teeth, I do not discern the crow’s feet seeking permanent residency at the outside corners of my mouth and eyes, nor can I perceive the pervasive grey masking my former dark brown hair color. If I squint, I can almost imagine myself as a blond bombshell.

When the face looking back at you from the mirror disappears, you have the chance to imagine yourself in a new way. If you frown at the bathroom mirror first thing in the morning, you might lock in a picture of how you will look to others during the course of your day.

There is an advantage to not judging yourself by how you appear in a mirror day after day. If you have some vision, consider taping a picture of someone else’s face at just the right size and height to block out your own image. Look at you! You look as great as Wonder Woman Linda Carter or Clark Kent as Superman! Your eyes are bright and your hair and brows are trim. Your teeth could not look more brilliant, and your neck is tucked firmly out of sight under your chin.

You look great! You feel great! You smile! When you lose sight of your own face in the mirror, you can imagine Sophia Loren or someone rich, powerful and influential. I promise you will feel happier and more confident about facing the day when you fancy a new face in the mirror.

Marcia Wick is enjoying new adventures with her first guide dog, Viviane, a 60-pound yellow lab from Guide Dogs for the Blind. Marcia is legally blind due to Retinitis Pigmentosa. Recently retired, her career included newspaper reporting, public relations, communications and publishing.  With two daughters now grown and a grandson, Marcia is returning to her writing roots in partnership with her sister, Jennifer Walford, as The Write Sisters. She also advocates for public transit, the Visually Impaired and Blind Skiers , and currently serves on the GDB Alumni Association Board of Directors.  Marcia lives in Colorado Springs with her husband and Viviane.