Author Archives: stevenddorsey

About stevenddorsey

I have been an avid writer for as long as I can remember. I enjoy composing poetry, lyrics, children's books and fiction for young adults. I have traveled the world extensively in my 25+ year career as an International Development professional and executive. I have lived in Europe, Latin America, and Africa. I speak Spanish and French. I married Rachel Miltimore in 1985. We have five children and five grandchildren. We currently live in Manassas, Virginia. We enjoy writing children's books together.

Sweet Pea Memories

  February’s frozen Wasatch sod broke away under thrusts from grandma’s spade, and stiffly sweet peas from faded pods between frosty clods were carefully laid. “Why plants seeds under a foot of snow?” I asked as her weathered hands worked … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Laid to Rest

You were laid to rest today, and you would laugh, wouldn’t you, at that phrase, knowing full well it would be the only way for you to rest? Rarely did I see you rest until your body and mind so … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Let Me Read Ya’ Something

There was always a chorus of adolescent groans whenever you said, “Let me read ya’ something.” Okay, maybe not the first time you said it, but every time, the hundreds of times, you repeated it through the years. It was … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

A Lullaby for Baby Guy

The glowing moon high in the dark sky, the twinkling stars are winking at Guy. Little Guy snug in mama’s strong arms nods off to sleep tucked safely and warm. Sleep gently Guy may all of your dreams be kissed … Continue reading

Posted in Lyrics, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

House of the Bleeding Tongue

House of the Bleeding Tongue I have only a foggy recollection of the house on the outskirts of Cumberland, Maryland. It was on a hill, that much I remember, and to this day I carry the bumpy scar on my … Continue reading

Posted in Auto-biography | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

A Walk with Robert

Robert? May I call you Robert? Of course, that is my name; better to call me Robert than Hezekiah, don’t you think? There used to be a farm here, gentle, rolling grass, dandelions, muddy fields and ponds, a firefly show … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

A Lunch Hour Walk in Washington, DC

I saw a girl with purple hair and vivid violet lips, and thought this look so suited her, I stared and nearly tripped. Two lovers argued face to face with words as sharp as knives. Then he surrendered with embrace, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment