Richard L. Provencher

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I have 2695 stories published in 30 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 3435908 times and 241 of my stories have been cherry picked.
55 of my 3,768 comments have been voted Great Feedback with a total of 55 votes

Richard L. Provencher's picture
Richard Laurent Provencher

Richard is from Rouyn-Noranda, Quebec. His enjoyment of the woods combined with contemporary issues form the basis of his writing. Richard is now concentrating on his Story-Poems, which he believes is like a global adventure in a land without borders. His background as a miner, welfare officer, supply teacher, newspaper reporter, and a further 22 years in social services provide him with ample article material.

Richard has work in print and online with literary magazines such as Inscribed, Hudson View, Short Story Library, Ottawa Arts Review, Paragon 111, Tower Poetry, Caduceus, The Danforth Review, Other Voices International, Rubicon Publishing, Writer's Block, The Foliate Oak, Parenting Express, The Penwood Review, and Blue Skies Poetry.

Note: Richard L. Provencher will be 80 on September 10, 2022, lives with his precious wife, Esther and he were married 48 years ago, as of March 27, 2023. Richard continues to joyfully write all types of poetry, and posts his work now, all of it on ABCtales.com. They have lived in lovely Pictou, Glenholme and Truro, Nova Scotia since April 1986. Richard & Esther have a very strong Christian faith. Bless each one of you who enjoy our writing, and we are pleased to share our work, via Online Posting. -Richard & Esther

My stories

WOLF

“No one knew what the Alpha intended. Perhaps he was just inquisitive or, after chasing a rabbit for fun, decided to explore this new territory.”...

A Long Term Care Facility

“How great Thou art” a resident whispers aware of His presence since days long ago in Sunday School lessons-- she knows she’ll be entering a heavenly...

LET THE SEASONS

call by name – come wind and rain and everything not so nice – come snow and add to my chores. Your banks pile higher than my snowshoes can muster...

THREE DEER

are a tripod of movement nibbling happily on half-frozen apples— fallen ones plucked swiftly from Autumn ground by creatures of Tundra-- an October...

IT WAS A NIGHT

LIKE THIS I last saw Irene snow creeping across our backyard and quickly growing into larger crystals. She was a looker in my thirteen year old eyes...

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