Renae Marie Schwemmer started writing when she was 12 years old and knew that writing was her passion in life. She wrote short stories and poetry as a child and as an adult now writes adult fiction novels, poetry, and children’s books.
Renae grew up in a small town in Wisconsin and growing up in the country gave her inspiration to write. She has a love of nature and color and the beautiful scenery around her is what inspired her to continue writing poetry. She resides in the same small town with her husband and two sons.
She has had her poetry featured in such books as Stars in Our Hearts, International Who’s Who in Poetry, and A Time to Be Free. She was awarded the International Who’s Who in Poetry award in 2012 and became a member of the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets in 2016.
Renae is working on publishing her adult fiction novels Old Bones, Promised, and Outlaw, and is in the works with a couple of publishing contracts. Renae’s goal is to inspire young readers to explore their own creativity and start writing!
Colors of My Life (poetry—Eber & Wein Publishing 2012)
Warrior Mom (children’s book—self-published 2015)
A Colorful Journey (poetry—self-published 2016)
The Adventures of Natalie and Olivia (children’s book—Eber & Wein Publishing 2016)
Outlaw (novel--2016 Gold Medal Winner for Destiny Whispers “Extraordinary Moment” Creative Writing Contest, 2016); available here.
Alone, My Soul
The candlelight flickers on the walls,
flickering around me, burning low,
lower with every passing thought,
burning, I know.
A poet’s soul, dimming with the flame,
yearning to burn out, as the candle,
yes, the candle, slowly releases itself,
perfectly placed on the dusty mantle.
The flame has long since burned, replacing,
and forgetting the heart of the fireplace,
forgetting the ashes; the settling dust,
that now covers the cold, hard case.
Such a loss, time losing its meaning,
meaning of poetry; a writer’s expression,
a passionate understanding,
get me dreaming.
Dreaming of the words, so many words,
beautiful and romantically said,
the thoughts and dreams; desire,
others never read.
Tiny, embezzled stones stuck,
like glued pieces secretly placed
to make a puzzle, newly faced.
Stuck on a walk, to be ignored
but used as a useful tool,
and reminded of a demeaning rule.
A purpose, placed without warning,
chiseled and exploited to suppress
the finished stone and nothing less.