Hearts on Fire, Revised Edition: An Eclectic Poetry Collection- New Poems Added by MS Dawn D D Munro (Paperback / softback, 2016)

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About this product

Product Information

A diverse collection of poems, designed to make lovers of poetry out of the most cynical critic.

Product Identifiers

PublisherCreatespace Independent Publishing Platform
ISBN-101540314006
ISBN-139781540314000
eBay Product ID (ePID)232399855

Product Key Features

FormatTrade Paperback (Us) ,Unsewn / Adhesive Bound, Paperback / Softback
LanguageEnglish
TopicPoetry Texts & Poetry Anthologies
AuthorMs Dawn DD Munro

Additional Product Features

Date of Publication07/12/2016
Content NoteBlack & White Illustrations
Country of PublicationUnited States
Author BiographyDawn Munro is an author and poet living in west Toronto, Ontario, Canada. She grew up in Northern Ontario, reading the likes of Nancy Drew, and the Hardy Boys, in addition to classics like Little Women, Anne of Green Gables, and Huckleberry Finn. Her fascination with reading and writing began almost before she could walk. She has this to say about poetry: Poetry To Me Like blossoms soothe with fragrant scent, delighting summer wind, and daffodil with girly frill, makes winter feel chagrined, pure poetry to me inspires a love for life's real zest, for robust passion, romance; it is writing at its best. To vent the fury, ease the sorrow, simply make me whole, words overtake my conscious mind and swarm my very soul. It's more than comfort, more than beauty; poetry is breath! It eases pain that offers little more than spirit's death. It lifts us into heaven, gives us wings that we might soar; it's music for our weary ears, or needed, mighty roar to banish burdens, slay the beasts, like dragons breathing fire. There's nothing like a metered rhyme chock full of righteous ire. To read a poem is almost like the singing of a psalm. When hearts are hurt, a certain poem acts like an angel's balm. Rich poetry to me is treasure trove I'm blessed to hold, and I will honor it each day until I grow too old. Until my eyes grow dim, until my hands can't hold a pen, I'll read and write sweet poetry, and then I'll start again the minute my poor shell's discarded, and I enter home; I'll sit beside my Saviour's feet - recite for Him a poem. Dawn Munro
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