Richard L. Provencher

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I have 2695 stories published in 30 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 3435997 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

MOMMA'S

waiting at home for her man he’s out there at one of the bars scorching back rye – straight. Can’t feel any more pain money’s all gone and back home...

I WANT TO DANCE

at twilight’s door by the seashore on cool ocean sand. I begin to count those mighty stars winking at a little guy like me.

DON'T BIRDS KNOW

they have wings to share with higher elevations that can rise to meet their needs. To soar anxiously like an eagle riding thrusts of thermals that...

JUS' ME

and my bottle oh sweet taste of wine. How it gurgles down my throat -- sloshes for a little more space. I lift to a higher elevation until – all gone...

EMPTY THE HOUSE

of all its artifacts-- the souvenirs from Niagara pictures of Cape Breton and Prairies so flat Saskatchewan way. Where did the years go as I look at...

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