poetry break for two drops of ink

Poetry Break: Ann Christine Tabaka



By: Ann Christine Tabaka



Night Watch


The night dances in on a purple sunset

edged in radiant streams of gold.


The evening star winks seductively

at the shy rising moon.


The sound of the surf’s eternal march

echoes across the dunes,

carried on a salt breeze.


Castles and footprints forgotten,

soon to be washed away.


Sea oats wave adieu to the light,

as sand crabs scurry home

to their sandy dens.


Silhouettes of egrets flock overhead,

marsh-bound for the night.

signaling the time for

Night watch.



Remembering Mom


The smell of bread baking,

and strong laundry soap,

it clung to her like perfume.


Faced scrubbed clean,

hands red and labor rough,

the smile of an angel.

that sweet tune as she did.


No one left to call out her name,

she preferred it that way, after

years of neglect and abuse.


She gave all she had to give,

and we took it in turn.

How I miss that dear woman today.





Painted sails in the wind, trailing

colorful dreams in their wake.


Rings around the sun. Sights

of the imagination singing

back to me in a soft voice.


Brisk salt breeze ripping

through my damp hair. The

scent of brine filling my head.


Sand crusted limbs. Sun burnt

toes. Sound of gulls overhead.


Off in the distance the shoreline

vanishes into rows of dune grass,

as billowy clouds float by.


Visual …

Tactile …

Aural …

Odiferous …

Multidimensional facets

stimulating the senses, as

painted sails glide by.



Sun Salutation


Daybreak pierces night, wiping

away the sleep. Plucking stars

from the heavens, placing them

neatly in a basket made of dreams.


Erasing darkness with amber

streaks, the sun kisses the day.

Dew drenched grasses glisten with

diminutive prism globes. Warmth

overtakes the chill as hours march on.


Clouds drift by announcing their

presence with purple shadows

crowning the land. Time has no

master while light rules the day.


Evening brings with it a daunting

stillness as it invades the glen.

A sleepy day says adieu as it

awaits tomorrow’s sun salutation.

Draws near



Night Refuge


Flying by the window of time,

seeking truth. Lurking in hidden

passages, susurrations follow.

Apparitions haunt the shadows

of the imagination.


There are no more wishes,

the stars have all gone dark.

Pain swallowed the night.


So, escape the day.

Flee for the night, never look

back. Run towards the darkness

that harbors the silence.


The deep ache of quiet that

floods the senses, battling turmoil

with calm. Future becomes past as

infinity dangles just out of reach.


Quote my words today,

For tomorrow does not exist!




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, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Synchronized Chaos; Pangolin Review, Trigger Fish Critical Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, Mused, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review; Fourth & Sycamore.


Contact her at tabakaac@aol.com


Ann Christine Tabaka – Pushcart Prize in Poetry Nominee

Instagram: #christinetabaka #annchristinetabaka /

Twitter: @TabakaChris

Books on Amazon


Other poems by Ann Christine Tabaka on Two Drops of Ink

Poetry Break by Ann Christine Tabaka

Poetry: By Ann Christine Tabaka

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