Beauty

. The sunlight is raising A glow from the east For dawn-dappled grazing By somnolent beasts; The flight of a parrot To glistening seeds; And down from her garret, With predatory needs, Arrives a brown kestrel Inspecting the ground For creatures too restful To notice the sound Of air against...

. On the Question of Enes Kanter How do heroes take a stand above the skyline? How face off sharp machinery that spades the earth, Converting humans into demons by the roots— Machines that grind distinctive features off a face To turn men to a twitch of its assembly line,...

. I. The Blacksmith God Forges Scenes on Achilles’ Shield after Homer’s Iliad Book 18 The hammer strikes! And glowing sparks fly out As Earth takes shape and then the flowing seas, The sun, the moon, the wondrous Pleiades And all the constellations round about. The hammer strikes! And now...

. One Miracle After Another A misty morning greeted by the sun Whose dappled rays arouse the drowsing Earth; The grandeur in the web a spider’s spun; A mother’s tearful joy for a safe birth; The giddy pride a groom feels in his bride. Companionship lent by a loyal friend;...

. Nature's War From far beneath the frozen soil the iris pushes high,Extending wide it reaches up to touch the sun and sky. Yet in the greening of the grass, the snows of winter stayas northern winds descend again to keep the spring away. The winds remain and daily howl but spring...

. . The Hireling Shepherd painting by William Holman Hunt This comely wench was Emma Watkins, she Who sat for Hunt in eighteen fifty-two. Too unaffected she, she never knew What lay beyond the brink, beyond the lee Of innocence. Nor could she ever see The fame at second hand...

. Today I feel the stirrings of the Dead In crimson-littered fields where poppies blow. I hear embittered groans and gasps of dread From churning earth neath crosses row on row. Today our freedoms fade along with sense As blinded minds grow ripe to twist and turn. Now glib and...

. From a Classified Location in England Dear Jim---my son---I write from far away. From England, Spring of 1944. June first! That means you’re six years old today! So happy birthday, son! And many more!Please know my heart is with you on this day---You and your mother---as I fight this...

. Colours of War What colour was the war to end all wars?We’ve watched as men, in grainy black and white,go o’er the top to face the chomping jawsof curtain fire and shrapnel’s iron bite.And when the muted thud of gas shells came,the battleground transformed into a fieldof jaundiced mustard,...

. The Soldier Keeps the Wolf at Bay The soldier keeps the wolf at bay So we may never see it. That is why the young today Simply don’t believe it. You say “We see no wolf out there? So why should we believe you?” The wolf is hiding in...

. Imperial Invitation Fair neighbor, come, pass through entrancing gates I made to veil surprises and seclude My masterpiece of panoramic zest, Where autumns yet unreddened bear my mark. The servants disappear at my behest; Accept my personal solicitude: The nature of an emperor awaits. My simple first-built structure quells...

. Robert Jack Eardley was, for many years, Chief Psychiatrist for the U.S. Justice Department. In 2000, he organised a family gathering of thousands with our surname, in the small English town where the name originated. People came from as far away as China and New Zealand. Our home has...

. Bywords Language rang and wedged within our mind. Centuries of words were drawn like swords. A surfeit, rhymes, soliloquies entwined, As singers fingered perfectly rung chords. Linguals clang, the cymbals of the tongue. Vowels, our open mouths fling ahs with ease. Sibilance sees esses struck and sung. Tones lift...

. He was the stream and she the underbrush; The rain that fell upon his upturned face. She was the shadowed glade in evening's hush That memorized the sun, received its grace. She was the sea, and he the wavering shore; Sometimes she was a fragile bit of lace, He...

. Last Rites Let not the Rock of Ages ever break Or send apostate magi to the stake; A golden era favoring good men Will likely never come around again. This world, in winter, is a dreary place, Devoid of pleasure or enduring grace, But still we stagger toward that...

. When summer left and took her warming shawl, The birds towards the south began to fly. The leaves of wizened trees began to dye, As shorter days announced the hues of fall. In town, there is the snore of one at rest; His lawn, pristinely kept, begins to sleep....

. New Day for the Old Dominion "This is what unity looks like" —Glenn Youngkin, Virginia governor-elect Virginians venture toward a vivid day Of family life and work as each sees fit; Next year the cost of living spirals down, The prospects for creating wealth increase, The government goes back...

. A fabled place adrift in history Which makes the spirit ache for what was lost; A masterpiece destroyed in mystery Then resurrected at a crippling cost; A priceless room of amber! A caprice Of luxe and lavish rococo design--- Of shining tiles rich in royal lore Which speak of...

. When I crave from my enclave something to eat (Not apples or peas or muffins or meat) I steady my stare at my pantry’s archive And spot a great lot that’ll keep me alive. In my haste for a taste of the finest cuisine I select my elected morsel...

. Autumn in Vermont October’s maples blaze a way __around a tall church steeple and sugar maples have their say __by raining gold on people. Such leafy vibrance begs to call __all those who wish to see, the winded leaves like waterfalls __that flow so splendidly. Those colored vistas from...

. translated from Russian by Sasha A. Palmer . Prayer God above, King divine! Heal this spirit of mine! Earthly lies drive away Lest they lead me astray— And for Thy heav'nly toll Please give strength to my soul! . . Hopelessness A zeal for happiness by gods was given to...

. . A Vagabond Song by Bliss Carman (1861-1929) There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood -- Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. The scarlet of the...

. Glastonbury A deathless tree stood witness while The marshlands round a nearby isle Were drained and bared a hill forlorn; A lonesome tree, long in exile Since Joseph sailed from the Nile— The Glastonbury Thorn. That staff once thrust into the earth Had burgeoned to a blessed girth And...

. How Grim Is the Grim Reaper? How grim is the Grim Reaper? Rapacious and rambunctious; Solemn stalker, soul seeker, Slayer uncompunctious. How dim his lair’s darkness? Capacious, crenellated Wailing walls of starkness; Evil never sated! How slim is our survival? A silver shining sliver Of time from our arrival...

. We Sum total of all life is death, And breath sustains us for a time. We’ll live until we’ve spent God's dime. The meter's running faster still. No matter what we want or will, We’re always in His debt. Some say that life's a losing bet, But we embrace...

. It's raining now in New York City; Yes, I know that's true. For like that dreamer, Walter Mitty, Daydreams take me, too, To fabled places far away Upon a lazy, rainy day Where I can see and do and say What fancy leads me to. So, while I sit...

. Face-to-Face Meeting up, Darjeeling tea, So familiar, you and me. Here’s your cup, you raise it up Do a little "cheers" to me, Joke on "hospital-it-tea," Say, “How healing is a cup, More than a mask, as we sup.” . . Nightmare for Mike Lancaster, a friend who may...

. Men Before Work for Dana Gioia It’s dark and cold. The fleet comes filtering in. They take a breath. They get out of their cars. Half-hidden in a cowl-like hood, their heads are bent like friars walking through the fields. Their coffee cups are hallowed in their hands. The...

. Fright Night This is the night the dead walk in the streets Looking like neighbors’ children, masked In tricks they have been taught to trade for treats That pose the questions spooks are always asked. The six year old rouged like a Main Street Moll Knows better than to say...

. As I look out upon October leaves And brown grass weathered by the autumn sun, I see the shafts of light a bare branch cleaves And so much of creation now undone. I feel the sorrow of a world defeated And wonder if my life reflects the same Cycle...

. By Waterloo Station I sat down and thought (on a bench not too far from the turbulent stream) of Edwardian London’s once dominant port, and of trains puffing by, empowered by steam. The air was polluted by sulphur and soot, the era of hansoms and carts would soon pass,...

. Lady Macbeth’s Regret Soft hands that led her smitten lord to bedInflamed the flare and thrust of his desire.Cool hands that won his trust and soothed his dread,Now sting and burn in licks of Hades’ fire.  Slick hands now drip with crimson viciousness And reek of wicked deeds that sliced at life. Their smooth allure and sleek perniciousness  Had honed the blade of regicide’s sly knife.  Sore hands are scrubbing skin,...

. Perfect Apples The Law of Perfect Apples says it all:A malic acid tang pervades the crispAnd shocking mouth appeal that tells you fallIs under way.  If you should catch a wisp Of summer turning winter in the playYour tongue and nose were first created for,You’ll later fondly recollect the...

. Ballade for His Lady Deceased by Charles d’Orléans (1394–1465) Alas, Death, who made you so bold? My noble princess you possess; My life and comfort you enfold, My pleasure, wealth, and cheerfulness. Since you my mistress now oppress, Take me, her servant since we met, For I would soon die willingly...

. When the goddesses came by the light of the dawn, They were greeted with music, and what did they see, But a flute that was pressed to the lips of a Faun As he leaned up against a deciduous tree; As the melody played he stepped out from the...

. I’m old, my young ones. Soon I’ll have to leave. But ere we part I have just one tale more To share---a tale of valor. Never grieve A grandpa who helped win the Civil War! Back then I was a farmer, country-born, Ohio bred, blessed with an upright wife....

. Autumn You’ll notice, ‘round this time of year, That to the flowers they hold dear, The bees will cling the whole night through--- And if you loved them, wouldn’t you? So what if evening’s deadly chill May be the final, bitter pill That brings your life unto its end---...

. after the Epoch Times series' How the Specter of Communism Is Ruling the World History’s tide brought us forth to this day, A dark, sullen mist hanging low on display, The Communist Specter’s tail shriveled and feeble, Yet tight is its desperate grip on our people. A kingdom once...

. https://youtu.be/eRp7_tqfxTs On Rumble here: https://rumble.com/vnvehl-a-poem-for-aging-beauties-endless-bloom-society-of-classical-poets.html?mref=iosaf&mc=6b8az Poet: Angel L. Villanueva of Massachusetts Audio/Visual Work: Society of Classical Poets Voice-Over: Evan Mantyk Photo: Pedro Ribeiro Simões, “A very beautiful old lady II” (used under creative Commons License 2.0) Music: (1) Victoria, from Chopin's Ballad No. 4; and (2) Victoria, from Mozart's...

. Prince Albert in a Can What can I say? I wore a mask and did The social distance thing, got Pfizer-vaxxed And tested negative five times (I kid You not!), did online research, asked A lot of questions, followed every rule And took a trip to Maryland to lay...