Ann Arbor Review


Patty Dickson Pieczka
Deji Adesoye
Michelle Bailet-Jones
Steve Barfield
Gale Acuff

Elisavietta Ritchie
Solomon Haruna
Aneek Chatterjee
Karyn M. Bruce
Robert Nisbet
Laszlo Slomvits
Y. Przhebelskaya

Running Cub
Alan Britt

Alica Mathias

Michael Lee Johnson

Vyarka Kozareva

Silvia Scheibli

Richard Gartee
Fahredn Shehu
Amit Parmressar

John Grey
Shutta Crum

Jennifer Burd
Kushal Perusal

Fred Wolven

Stephen Sleboda

Denis Robillard

Alex Ferde


Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2021-22 Francis FerdeAll rights revert back to each poet. --editor / Southeastern Florida

AAR history note:  in print 1967 - 1980.  Irregular publications 1980 - 2004.  As ezine 2004 - present. Most of 55 years all together.


Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven

Submissions via e-mail:







The other night in a local pub
a distant cousin was talking
about a peaceful island off
County Mayo some of his
family had visited a few
summers ago.  Inisturk was
the isleís name; its reputed
to be quite lovely that season
of the year. Plenty of green
grass covering rolling hills
with but a few cottages here
and there.  Not all kinsmen
even know of its existence
much less its lovely landscape
and quaint modest hamlets.

My same cousin was also
heard to reflect, following
a Celtic tune played in a
somber and beautiful
way, ĎThe older the fiddle
the sweeter the tune.í  Ah,
how true tis the expression,
for as he aged, my favorite
Irish namesake uncle grew in
mental strength true enough.
I reckon Iím looking to my
aging gently while growing
no horns yet gaining in wisdom.

Me thinks one bright summerís
morn I might visit that island
while I have my wits about me.
I could do little better than to
sing with kinsmen in a local pub
and walk the rolling green hills
before it is time to ride the waves
for one final time, one last round.


Alex Ferde, Ireland


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