Featured Guest Poetess Writer, Ms. Becca Teagan from PoetrySoup.com in; One Dismal Night

I was moved and so inspired by Ms. Becca Teagans’ poem, I knew I had to feature it. So I asked her and she said, “she would be honored” if I did on my website which I’m still putting up. ( writers-writing-words.squarespace.com ) Naturally, I was “honored” when she said yes, actually got “giddy” about it truth be known. (hahaha) It is so beautifully written, I was in awe. So without further ado,

Ms. Becca Teagans,’

One Dismal Night.



Ms. Becca Teagan Zip Gliding somewhere across something… Not sure we haven’t spoken yet.



Featured Guest Poetess: Ms. Becca Teagan from PoetrySoup in One Dismal Night

One dismal night in Autumn’s chill
With thunder, deafening and shrill —
I, in my chamber, dark and damp
Lay restlessly near flick’ring lamp
Heard scratching just behind the curtain
‘twas but a tree branch, I was certain

Still half-asleep in fitful slumber
‘midst crashing sounds of shaking thunder
With blanket pulled to hide my head
All nestled down into my bed —
Yet even still, could not be drowned,
That horrid, scratching-scratching sound

Tossing — tossing to and fro
My heavy pillow I did throw
As if to stop that scratching sound
That made my head begin to pound!
But yet the noise continued still —
Such scratching, scratching, on the sill

Reluctantly I left my bed
And headed toward the thing of dread —
Flung back the curtains with disdain
Threw open window to the rain —
Thus welcoming a feline beast
If only so the scratching ceased!

Conceding shelter for the night
I lay back down and cut the light
Relinquished slowly to my dreams —
Awakened suddenly to screams!
They were my own, these anguished cries!
That feline clawing at my eyes!

Scratching, scratching at my head —
Tearing me, my flesh to shred —
My screaming didn’t scare it off
It looked at me as if to scoff
My bed became my grave, it seemed —
‘till I awakened from my dream …

Its eyes — they bore into my soul
I grabbed it up with just one goal —
The force at which I threw that beast
Against the wall — the scratching ceased
Then threw its body out the door
To haunt me, haunt me nevermore!

Thus bringing peace to follow fast —
Yet peace like this will never last
For every night, I toss and turn
My head, it spins – my ears, they burn
For every night, upon the sill —
I hear the scratching-scratching still

Copyright ©  | Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2017


Pieces of Me


I wonder what becomes of pieces of me
which I tear out and lay bare,
search through with loving care,
painstakingly gathering the fragments
and forming them into simple gifts;

I know it’s not much, but it’s all I have to give –
so I try to create just the right thing
that might reflect the essence of who I am
or how I feel about the person receiving it.

What happens to these pieces of me that I share?
I take them and lovingly arrange them in layers
and wrap them carefully in a fragile shell –
are they appreciated and cherished?

I’d like to think they are placed gently
into the hearts of those for whom they were created
I want to believe that, once inside, they move and stir
and that, by them, I might make a difference to someone,
and that I might become a tiny part of their world.

What becomes of those pieces of my heart
when they are not seen as a gift imparted;
when they are not kept as treasures to hold?
Are they taken as something to be used?
Or swept aside like they mean nothing,

burned up in the fires of indifference,
blown casually away in an unresponsive breeze?

Maybe they remain, buried and hidden,
releasing a fragrance – beautiful energy,
a positive force, of which my recipient is unaware.

Sometimes I wish I could take back everything I’ve given
which were unappreciated and cast aside;
gather them back, and store them all up
to replenish my limited supply –
because sometimes I feel I’m running low.

But, I can’t take back what I’ve freely bestowed.
So I hope that for every part of me
that is received with indifference or apathy,
there are many others that are being treasured
as the expressions of love, they were meant to be.


This is a re-post… and my last poem here for a while.

I’m leaving pieces of me here, in the friendships I’ve made,

even the ones that have ended.
| Copyright © | Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2016, 2019 |



I Am Poetry

In 2013, I recorded myself reciting this poem, and put it with some of my own photographs…   


Feel me like an autumn breeze
Dancing easily through your thoughts
Let me stir that hidden part of your soul
That part that you’ve forgotten long ago
Experience me, deeply breathe me in
Attempt to capture the essence of who I am
But know that you will never pin me down
For no one is able to capture the wind

Be ignited by the flames of my passion
Frolic in the radiance of my vibrant colors
Let my heated whispers call out to you
Embrace me, and slowly remove the layers
Leisurely explore every subtle nuance
Attempt to discover my deepest secrets
But realize that you can’t fully know
For no one is able to grasp a fire’s glow

I am waves of pure intensity
I’m sincerity, passion, pain, and pleasure
With glimpses of clever; reticent and demure
Swim into my crystal clear epiphanies
Bathe in the spring of my sensuality
Drink and be refreshed by my offering
You’ll never grow tired of tasting me
For I am timeless. I am Poetry

ps_becca bio pic
Ms. Becca Teagan

| Copyright © | Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2017, 2019 |

Becca Teagan, it was an honor and a privilege to feature your poetry. I so thankful and grateful that our path has crossed, on this road of life, we journey through. I’m thankful also, for your presence in my life. I bid you nothing but complete success, and wish you good health and prosperity. Good Luck out there…


Best Wishes,


I Got A Dream In Heart,
cause I still have a dream to finish!

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