Monica Rae (Schaeffer) Stover > Writing | WritersCafe.org

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..

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 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 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..

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..

Monica Rae (Schaeffer) Stover Writing