Monica Rae (Schaeffer) Stover : Writing

My dreams and I

My dreams and I

A Poem by Monica Rae (Schaeffer) St..


I dream of harps- of laden gold and sweet, melodic memories encased in a perfection of purest elation. Such are dreams- my dreams swirl around a..
Fourteen years

Fourteen years

A Poem by Monica Rae (Schaeffer) St..


My daughter brought home another A in English, and I beamed. Until she dropped the latest on me. "Mom, I’m gonna be a writer!" ..
This Chair

This Chair

A Poem by Monica Rae (Schaeffer) St..


This chair is wooden in the cold it is cold This chair supports when kept in good repair This chair is not unique, though I am the only one..
Once

Once

A Poem by Monica Rae (Schaeffer) St..


Once I was strong. Heracles with heated hands clapped me on the back and called me brother and I did not fall. The battle, once begun, assured t..
Thoughts on All Saints' Day

Thoughts on All Saints\' Day

A Poem by Monica Rae (Schaeffer) St..


You stole savagely from my ancestors horrors unchecked death beyond measure all in the name of a savior and now you try to tell me that I am e..


Compartment 114
Compartment 114
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