Beauty

. At the Temple of Yue Fei Behind, a lake unstirring sleeps; Ahead, grey fog and budding leaves. A jade-green pool commands the heart, Beneath the clouds and sweeping eaves. A statue beckons; I respond, And past the present then perceives. While traitors kneel by mounded tombs, A land for...

. Lost and Found I’ve lost myself but in the course, I’ve found a sanctuary glowing, aspen golden. To me, I am the stream to woodland bound upon the forest floor midst boulders olden. My water flows as free as eagles soaring above the watching Adirondack mountains. A hemlock’s flitting...

. The Secret Garden Beyond these ivied walls grows naught but heather Gorse and broom, the moors engulfed by blows Of bitter, wuthering wind and gloomy weather. This haunted land is barren, bleak and old. But here---within the gate---my garden grows Warmed by sunlight bright as marigold! Enchantment! Every mum,...

. There never was a night so long When time went crawling by. The Arctic wind came howling in Across the Nashville sky. The planes had all been grounded With no tickets left to ride. It was wheels out on the highway On the night Hank Williams died. The radio...

. Geese on the Moor On Laddow Moss the April air is cold And still. A single pair of wayward geese We find beside a tarn, their nest of fleece And feather sprigs of springy heather hold Together. Once we found marsh marigold Up here but now its meagre straggles...

. “Come with me, child, past all this camouflage.” “Is there a secret garden there, Grandpa?” “Not quite. It’s just a small, padlocked garage, To keep out the enforcers of the law.” I keyed the lock, and lifted up the door For just the time it took us to walk...

. after “Ballade of the Unborn Child” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox I wrote by hand my lines of verse, __Just lit by reading light; I made no sound, no sign or curse, __And suddenly was fixed with fright. ____Then out in the air on a gossamer wing, ____Came a sigh...

. A burst of laughter slips into an echo past the tinny bells and rattling glass of Joe's, my corner liquor store, the last and first of every day. Arroyo streets are dry of human traffic now, are dry of humans anyway, and through abandoned cars a gust of night...

. Running round ruins of things long forgot, These tried, tiring times---who can make an end? Can read the scroll or seven seals rend? The limpid air is still and full of rot. The sorry dreams of fragile souls are bought And sold for tuppence. My unhappy friend, What plan,...

. If We Knew It All . . . Where do dreams go when we wake up? Where does time go as we age? Why did William Shakespeare make up Plays we still perform on stage? Sometimes questions beg an answer— Questions trite or quite profound. Where is Waldo? Cures...

. Hagi at My Study Window hagi or bush clover, a symbol of poetry, blooms as summer turns to autumn. Paper shapes the future’s surface, Paperweights the present state. Inkstones hold a scholar’s treasure: Ink, the past in pine-soot sticks. Water droppers moisten motion Brushes pensively perform, Taken from a...

. Far from the city’s ceaseless bustle— __That’s where the eagle flies! Borne by the means of plume and muscle— __That’s how the eagle flies! There she is one with updrafts rising; There she knows pleasures worth surmising— Beauty and power synthesising __Thrill when the eagle flies. There, I could...

. The Argument: The Poet, with Dante and Virgil, has arrived on the third step of the StairWell, or Purgatory. Dante at the start of Canto 3 has been at pains to explain to the shocked Poet what just has happened on step 2. It has been an incredible, almost...

. I stand upon the Bridge of Sighs as teardrops fill my weary eyes and think of life that used to be when she was still in love with me. I watch the river down below. My woes don't interrupt the flow. It catches all my tears that fall yet...

. Farmer, Unpack the dormant forces quiet days Have put aside and stoke the smothered fire Whose soot fanned out in lifeless carbon rays Upon the hearth of winter’s mild repose, But bear the fire within—long days require A bolder stroke.  The spring comes to a close, And summer spawns...

. Three by Heraclitus I Offend yourself with mirrored knowledge (where’s that face you wore at college?) and your sense of life’s no-stasis, thinking of various times and places, recalling the endless grandmother summers, remembering bees and thunderboomers, and quote, “A boy’s will is the wind’s will.” All is flux,...

. A hundred tongues of smoke--- Translucent wisps, lithe specters--- __Rise, snaking languidly, Curling, grasping like tendrils At the light they invoke; Then billow into clouds That hang, a haze, an aura, __A veil of mystery, Of light diffuse, pervasive, That glows and yet enshrouds. An otherworldly scent--- Sweetness of...

. an excerpt When battle rages hot, the charge will sound. An army must not let itself break ranks, Although they see the cannon all around. To my Commander humbly I give thanks, For I see not the field as He, in view Of all the strikes and counterstrikes that...

. in response to Traditionis custodes (“Guardians of the tradition”)---the new motu proprio issued by Pope Francis on July 16, 2021. She has been scarred before. She knows the sting Of scorn and ostracism. She has been poor And homeless. Hunted, hiding from a string Of angry mobs, she lived,...

. When softly my sustaining comfort stirs Herself to offer solace coveted, Advancing toward the left side of my bed With that sweet courtly reasoning of hers, In fearful homage all my being murmurs, “O happy soul, from what sphere do you come?” __A little frond of palm, and some...

. Rondeau The rondeau echoes its refrain in a subtle way, just as rain at times will fall, not in torrents, but in a fine mist, the wood fence, weathered gray, resisting the stain of water. So, the reader’s brain, lulled, may not at first sustain the expectation and suspense...

. Winners announced here. Write a haiku and post it in the comments section below. The haiku must adhere to the traditional parameters of a haiku to qualify and may be deleted if it does not. See traditional haiku requirements here. Note that a haiku is like a a painting of...

. Rain Song by Klaus Groth (1819-1899) Pour, O rain, pour down to earth, Give my childhood dreams rebirth, When in reverie I roamed Shores where sand with moisture foamed. When the summer sun’s hot rays Idly vied with crisper days, And the pale leaves dripped with dew, And seeds...

. Da Vinci’s lauded “Savior of the World”— Commissioned by the King- Louis of France, * Entombed for years by paint but now unfurled While few respected experts look askance. The work of Leonardo does impress— Effects of soft sfumato on the face Where edges fade and softly evanesce Into...

. ⬙ Judged by Cynthia Erlandson See all entrants here. ⬙ . FIRST PLACE WINNER ($100) . A Slight Deviation from the Canterbury Tales after Chaucer’s Prologue and other poems by Brian Yapko, Sante Fe, New Mexico When that April with his showers sweet Made mud fields out of every...

. While Waiting Through the Night This morning, searching on the laptop, I Found notes I made upon the night she died. All through the darkest hours at her bedside That night I knew she knew her end was nigh. And in the morning light though she would lie There...

. Lucky It stormed around our house last night, The lightning turned the black sky bright. Tornadoes came to join the fray, The morning news led me to pray. Six houses leveled, not too far--- How vulnerable we all are! . . Why We Have Mother’s Day The son while...

. O Happy Glass Another soul inside a glass deep red— I think on Provenance, effect and cause: Do you begin in wind? In sun, or rain? Inside a seed in bed, or in the grower’s head? In winter when your climbing growth takes pause? In summer when your jewels...

. Kilkenny Castle A moat runs dry revealing secrets buried those conquerors and conquered knights had known. The past, a relic—bits and pieces carried, some seen in present life, some overgrown by history’s décor. And at its core A castle built of wood and later stone. We in the present...

. Making All Things Orderly Stare at grey clapboards in unbroken rows That seem to follow the unceasing sound Of thrumming traffic, with no vibrant red Or swaying leaves to soften sunlight’s blows. Poems of air and chlorophyll’s repose Have gone; the smallest traces can’t be found; Destroyed, as some...

. Heliotrope Phaeton, son of the god Helios, attempted to drive his father’s celestial chariot. His inexperience caused him to burn up part of the earth and the heavens, so he was killed by a thunderbolt from Zeus. The frightened gods all breathed in deep relief (Thunderer, thanks! You’ve saved...

. With How Sad Steps from a Philip Sidney sonnet With how sad steps, O Moon, you climb the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What see you? Humankind’s excessive pace Getting from here to there? We are not wise, Who to alarm clock daily need arise,...

. Nest Egg The things for which I hoped have come and gone: The power to express a cogent thought; Ability to wake at break of dawn; Approval from a nearly perfect wife; And will to execute what I’ve been taught. But this is not to say that all is...

. —like his saddle, hat, and spurs No silver on this cowboy’s working saddle; borne bedrolls, stray calves, and dry canteens, carried beside lame mounts home to the stable, baptized in thunderstorms and mountain streams —horn scarred by years of lariat, grooved deep. The smell of leather, home, a cowboy’s...

. Am I, am I beautiful? Surely my face qualifies: Forehead pearly bright to rise Over sweetest lips cerise. Tell me if I’m beautiful! Cupid’s brows I have, green eyes, Rounded chin, nose small in size, Blonde curls blowing in the breeze; Am I, am I beautiful? Firmness my high...

. https://youtu.be/9VRUjxFxQ2A?list=PLfUp4UiBMcEZC4Hgnr33FpijP5W5mRNo6&t=102 “A star!” the wise man shouted, “Look, a star!” forgetting the hour and his solitude, or else too overjoyed to heed the time— then, starting at the ghostly echo through the tower’s highest chamber, shook with fright and with a jolting hand silenced his lips. Nobody heard him;...

. O Say Can It Be? "How long you been suckin’ up oxygen, friend? For seventy years? Well now that’s gonna end! And moochin’ off Social Security too? The Great People’s Zoo is the next stop for you! You’ll be in their keep, but not for very long, Till they...

. Brimstone I sniff a whiff of brimstone in the tone Of smooth effusions oozing from his tongue. A lick of sulfur clings like stale cologne To slickest syntax eloquently strung Like lustrous pearls to wrap around the throat That swallows every sickening cliché. The polished bleating from a cheating goat Is honed to lead the sweetest sheep astray. I hear his cloven hoof tap to the beat Of hapless hearts all fed the plumpest pledge--- That putrid fruit the...

. Birds in Flight by David Whippman “Free as a bird,” that's what we always say, "It's time to spread my wings and fly away, I have to find myself, fly high and free!" Birds are the metaphors of liberty. They seem free, for they have the gift of flight,...

. Dirge for a Dying Diva Who’s alive now who ever heard the voice That once adorned La Scala and The Met, A native of this land where we forget Artists quicker than books or melted ice? The wonder of her lovely lyric highs Survives in one rich memory as...