Biography of Monica Engeler
I have been writing poetry for many years now. I do it for enjoyment. I never studied writing for a major or career just started doing it from one day to another. I haven't written as much in recent years, but try to when there is a moment for it.
I also write and illustrate children books on the side now. My passion and major is in fine arts. Hope you enjoy my work. You can find my artwork online very easily.
Monica Engeler's Works:
Eternal Heartland Country Road
Poems title Songs of a Winter's Night
Great Poems of the Wester World
Poem Far and Away
Learning to Fly
Two ships And The Ocean
Monica Engeler Poems
A Christmas Wish
And so it is Christmas time. Another twelve months are gone. Where are you this Christmas? I believe you set off on another life.
Good By My Friend
Where has time gone? I wish I knew. The years are very few.
Wishing For Summer
Do you remember playing baseball? Or hitting tennis balls over the net? Do you recall basking in the sun? Those were the best days of all.
A Blank Page
When I look down at a blank page, I see only white paper and no marks It waits for my pen to create something Like a poem or drawing in its final stage.
Lost In The Moment
I walked along the beach in windy air. My mind was lost in deep meditation. I searched for better periods in my life.
Dreams Of Better Days
Day by day I dream of other ways I wish for the world to smile in peace and solve the answers of world hunger how I vision for a bigger and a brighter day?
Jack Frosts Winter Snow
Inch by inch the snow piles high The land is blanketed white Cold air shivers the inner space There is no grass about of any trace.
The Ring (A Christmas Story)
It was the night before Christmas Eve, And time to put the pine up in the living room. My brother and I always took care of the tree.
Music, It's Everywhere
Listen do you hear the music in the air? It is everywhere you can hear it in the birds, the wind, and the sea Can you feel the rap it is all so free.
The Dark Room
I am standing in darkness. I wish for no solitary here. Then why do I infer fear, And feel so helpless?
How I long for a poised chum. Who emerges ever affluent? His voice whistles a kept hum. That is a sweetly toned ascent.
The Wicked Brush
Sadly, I sat down by a pond. I wished to paint, but I had no brush. My roller had fallen into a millpond.
A Cats Life
A thick fur colored black and white, Painted the frame of my cat Tasha. Resembling the tint of newspaper lines
I look faults face to face with no fear My soul never runs away from failure There are always obstacles to encounter Then promise to send me some cheer.
Dreaming Of Wimbledon
Do you remember the long hours of practice?
Hitting those yellow tennis balls over the net
A forehand, a backhand time and time again
Do you think all the work is all really justice?
Did you ever wish of making the big leagues?
At least making it big in your favorite pastime,
Tennis the most frustrating game I can think of,
One day you win big, then you fall to pieces.