Beauty

  A wind blew through the almond trees. The blossoms shook, the petals floated down Past where I sat on the cliffs above the sea. The waves reminded me a bit of the mounds Of snow I’d left behind, if only for a week. The locals though were wrapped in...

Why Live This Long? The thought presents - Why live this long? What more to do, Once sung my song? The arch of life Made sense to me. With work in hand - While serving Thee. Great tasks complete, Hills have been scaled. Success achieved - Opponents failed. I turn...

  Potpourri Take leaves at first, curled crisp by autumn’s cold— Crush them to crumbly powder in a tray To make a simple palette of decay In varied tints of brown and red and gold. Next flower petals, multicolored, bold In stark chromatic contrasts—dry and bray Them in a mortar...

Epistle to a Celt Where, o Celt, mayst thou be found Upon what all was once thy ground? Art thou of thy majestic race The last to bear a mortal face? Thy speech and runes thou scornst to learn, Which memory can scarce discern. In splintered nave, the Celtic Cross...

This poem is written in response to proposals to sell ancient public forests to private developers in England. https://saveourwoods.co.uk/   Oh, site where forest now is laid – Why take the suite of forest dreams? And live on angry air and claim. Oh, site where forest now is laid –...

It's Best to Be a Giver It’s best to be a giver, not a taker, Or else how could you ever face your Maker? When time is due and Judgment Day is here, You look in your Lord’s eyes, and have no fear, You know your heart is pure and...

The Akkerman Steppe Original Polish by Adam Mickiewicz (1798-1855) below I launch myself across the dry and open narrows, My carriage plunging into green as if a ketch, Floundering through the meadow flowers in the stretch. I pass an archipelago of coral yarrows. It’s dusk now, not a road in...

Poem for a Birthday Say that the year is round, and on its top March lighted candles in concentric rows. They drip their wax, which hardens on the heart As birthdays pass, and most of us suppose That all we ask is just some time to stop, Regroup, remit the...

  When dusk settles, the oxalis Stands taller and sweeter, As if to say that all of this Is just Nature’s theater, The butterfly-shaped purple leaves Are an actor's costume, Which fans out in royal sheaves And is soaked in perfume.   Julia Geaney-Moore is a Psychology and English major....

The Muses we understand from Part 1 of this article are the daughters of the future and the past, and more specifically of memory, light, truth and beauty; they are essential for the ‘good life’, and we understand as well that because they are goddesses, they cannot be summoned by...

. . What Rumor, What Word? On the featured photo above What rumor, what word, O Cloud from the sea? Cumulus, Nimbus: what sayest thou to me? But human and man; the simplest I be, And found ruminating, mine interest would thee, O quench, with thy speech, and earnest me...

  In a secluded forest glade, Where sunlight shines and shadows fade, The faeries come to dance and play Upon a bright warm summer’s day. Light are their footsteps, quick their feet On shimmering wings, they do fleet. Throughout the glade, clear voices ring; The songs of faerie folk they...

27 November 1976: Fort Eustis, Virginia By Usa W. Celebride It is an autumn Saturday. I sit amidst the scree, of dry, brown, crackly leaves, against the rough bark of a tree. The Sun casts out long shadows. It's a time of purity, of rest, of realism, grandeur and simplicity. I...

  Déja Do you remember when a piece of art Held truth or meaning in its oil or stone— And beauty even?  Paintings would impart Aesthetic truth and not just some sweet tone Of glowing like a Rothko, luminous But void like Close Encounters of the Third Kind’s shimmer.  Artefacts were numinous Like...

  Taking a Gambol A rabbit’s life’s a gambol, A fortunate existence; Giving time enough to spare For frolics in the bramble, Bunny-hops from here to there, Some chewing for subsistence. But in dreary contrast we Refuse to twitch our noses At sweet treasures given free - The perfume of...

I Think I Like You Better Now I think I like you better now; it’s been a little while Since first you took my breath away with just a passing smile. When love was fresh and new and fast, before life took its toll-- I think I like you better...

The Flowers Upon a morning stroll serene Across many young floral gardens Greeting me on those fields of green Was the red rose who all love pardons. The humming bird about it flutters The bees its sweet soft hues admire But I hear a miser who mutters As storms prepare...

Penelope’s Postscript Uncounted days, wrung dry of tears— Lost wanderers do not return: So much for the departed years. Heap up my mangled hopes and fears, Leave Ithaka to mock and spurn Uncounted days. Wrung dry of tears I shut from my importuned ears The suitors’ pleas. How could I...

Tipton County, Tennessee, 1917 My great-grandfather cut down huge black oaks Whose stumps his two young sons helped him uproot, Each some Yggdrasil yielding to the strokes Of manic axes in their mad pursuit Of Paradise providing ample fruit, A man with two boys made to work as men, Their...

Ephemeral Constant With hued music, beautified page. His spheres were thinner than gossamer, Only to beauty, did Keats defer. Was omni-sensory, ahead of his age, Gifted synesthete; few could gauge. Lines between realities could he blur, With Psyche, or nightingale easily confer. Complex were stanzas, of youthful sage. ‘Cockney’ image...

  Sonnet IV. Edward the Confessor Edward, the Cross no more on England’s shores Thy people blesses. The light of faith is gone. From stolen thrones the foes of Christ wage wars Against thy sons, and not one sword is drawn. Thy Westminster, by pagan rites profaned, Where thy pure...

Dying Muse Not everyone will survive The muse has sung her last song The end is about to arrive It has been following us all along The forest is groaning in pain She sheltered her creatures with love Her labors were all given in vain Of her plight she knew...

  Mine eyes beheld your beauty, My thoughts remember how, Your loveliness I cherish, Where ever you are now, And in my heart I know you, Always to be near, Because your vision glories, My picture of you clear, And while this life we passage, Your bloom will help me...

  Justice,  Equity  and  Compassion  in  Human  Relations In realms of Humankind’s relations, Justice rules as queen & from her crown, the powers Compassion & Equity descend to Earth like stars, divine & regal past all seen to glorify those hearts sublime that scorn all Evil’s seeds, for Virtue feeds...

Two Mourning Doves Friendship on the promenade? I know to some it may sound odd but there above, two mourning doves in the weeping willow tree! They share their grief and find relief in the bonds that set them free. For tho' he cries each time she flies the tears...

(The BBC story here for reference) If I were burdened with a lover who Looked crooked like this woman (woman?), I Would go as twisted as Picasso.  Blue Lips, though, are what I’d paint to help me shy Away from her (or him?—can’t really tell), And if the her/him face looked...

  Could the dandelion be excused for not being a rose, If its effort to grow was much greater; If it labored and toiled Through unfavorable soil, And bloomed just a little bit later? Would its gaunt be forgiven and size overlooked If the looker could see what's within? Sure,...

  Golden Opposite of Grave Beauty The Buddhist, Yuezun, saw light like gold Above the blistering sands.  The desert blight Of Taklamakan gained no stranglehold On shimmering beauty.  There above cliff height A thousand golden Buddhas sang and danced With heavenly maids, celestial in strength And rhythm.  Yuezun had only chanced Upon this...

Degrees of Light She squinted, watching circling gulls Fly overhead; small rhythmic waves Slapped steadily upon ship hulls. Brown crabs dashed out from wet sand caves Evading hungry birds; dried fins Of fish lay underneath palm trees. Sleek dolphins laughed with long fixed grins, Warm west wind stirred, strong humid...

  Steel Masks King Henri II of France was accidentally killed in 1559 during a festive tournament when he was lanced in the eye by Gabriel Montgomery, seigneur de Lorges, a member of his Garde Escossaise. A young Italian nobleman named Luigi Corbinelli witnessed the event, and was so profoundly...

In that part of the day that briefly follows night, before the turning finds the steady lying line from where the biggest star will mount and will get bright, I turn me inside out and start to lift my spine. In that part where the day does start, there are...

Monsoon Dance In Quintets Go back, O' spry peacock, go back into thy dense coppice! The sylvan clock did spell a sly lie! Monsoon is far… ah still a tear in summer's eye! With stars, the sky is clear! Restless our yeomen are staring at sky. The deer and bunnies...

Yes, I admit I seldom write, Or even think of you, But not, as you suppose, Because there's someone new, But rather that I do not choose To let you slip away, Or let the passage of a year Seem more than half a day. Because I will not think...

Blessing in Disguise They catch each little misstep and with kindly, caring grace— they point out the right direction by gently getting in your face. And just in case, you've overlooked that vexsome fatal flaw, they take the time—to point it out: deftly hid, midst blah-blah-blah. They're sweet and giving—to...

For Our Children “The sum is greater than its parts,” or so the saying goes. And now the two of us can see the proof as each one grows, Distinct but similar in code, the perfect mix and match Of you and me but with a little extra in each...

To a Red-Winged Black Bird on the Advent of Spring For some a robin heralds in the Spring. Others: a crocus or a daffodil. My old man claims it’s when nightchirpers sing. The farmer cites the rain, the barnyard rill. I sense it when the maple-lines come down; when pruning-ladders...

Compassion, with your sun that shines unseen, You lead the river of man’s thoughts to flow Where Saving Grace’s golden breezes blow, To universal mercy’s sea pristine. With selflessness imbued, one’s self will soar To reach its zenith, freed of every urge, To feel the joy of spreading joy emerge,...

  Riddling Away What slips and squanders, and has no matter? Leaves one to ponder, and rarely flatters? Is never enough to go all around, and often too rough when finally found? And where will it go long after I’m dust? Another will know and hopefully trust. Announce its calling...

. . Hope What task be done, you thought was not?What asked and sought, forgot, was wrought?What strain was set against a blow?As gain unfettered, bettered, lo, The frost was last before the sun;What once was lost recast as won. . . The Moment “And I knew just as surely,...