Beauty

. . Nocturnal Litany I “From all malevolence the night employs….” ---James Agee, “Epithalamium” . From all malevolence the night employs To haunt our ragged hearts and weary brains With bitterness that pulses through the veins Of memory with its unrelenting noise; From nightmare images that hover over us Portending...

. How Septuagenarian’s Cope Past seventy. Age does prevail. __The day is growing dim. I’ve managed through life’s calms and gales— I still can trapse through woodland trails __And workout at a gym. Past seventy. Age does assail. __Our grandkids prove time zooms! Their one-track minds never derail: Just tell...

. Bedtime Stories in triolets He’d curl her close and hold her tight and let the words dance in the air. The dragons soared and knights did fight, he’d curl her close and hold her tight. She’d gasp and laugh, her mind take flight, he’d breathe new worlds for his...

. A Temporary Exhibit A million drops of water will be sprayed Across my yard today. And each of them Will capture the refraction of each blade Of grass, each dandelion leaf and stem. Each image is reversed and upside-down, Of course, and everything that I can see That stands...

. Left Outside The shopping cart, precisely ordered now while searching for those perfect little lines of lights for decorations---anyhow, I'm sure there must be something that combines with lights around the centerpiece to show a little flair, if not a little art. I shift my stuff and somehow, yes...

. Sunshine Sun, shine on me—come and stay! Dry my tears, send gloom away. Warm my soul, chilled to the bone By the freezing wind that’s blown. With your reassuring light Put my griefs and fears to flight. Don’t be shy; no longer hide, Cloaked by rain clouds dark and...

. Gawain’s Prayer in the Wilderness …the wildrenesse of Wyrale; wonde ther bot lyte That auther God other gome with gode hert louied. (…the wilderness of Wirral; few wandered there Who loved with good heart either God or man.) —Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, 701-702 Here, where the Wirral...

. Had I held you in the fields of Hay beside The Wye and on an afternoon that cleared To brilliance, although the sun soon would Sink to an evening in which darkness neared, Nothing so near as never---we could not--- Distracted us from purposes of each Other. We said...

. In a Home based on Michael Bunker’s grandmother (b. 1909) as described in his book Surviving Off Off-Grid . I Old, blind, and helpless, Grandma’s all alone— Bed, radio, phone, and nothing stimulating, __Indifferent care-crew members— Unwanted, worn-out human unit, waiting To be no more than carvings on a...

. A Wing-stroked Spectacle Segmented sets of starlings sharply elevate towards candescent skies, suspend, then circulate in sync. Their wingspans whisper sunset symphonies while manifesting silhouetted symmetries. With poise and spurts of swiftness, they transform the air into an ever-changing scape; this canvas where each turn and swirl unfurls a...

. A Blanket of Snow from childhood memories of the blizzard of 1949 on a farm near Bonesteel, South Dakota. The world is all bound in a blanket of snow, The kerosene lamps keep the windows aglow. The fire from the hearth with the wood we laid in Protects from...

. Unshackling the Spirit I toss and turn at night. I wonder why I’m here. But then with dawn the skeptic’s free, Dismissing faith and scoffing at the sky. I’m certain---Oh so certain---all I see Is limited to mass and energy--- What I can see and hear and touch and...

. Learning to Laugh The pathos of a circus clown, with empty pockets inside out, now challenges a small boy’s frown. Bewildered by the mimicked pouts, the racoon eyes and painted tears, he wonders what this clod’s about who falls but never seems to fear the squirting flowers or flying...

. Another Day How time has wasted, over time, over time. __At least to me, that’s how it seems. Oh how I’ve chased it, back and forth, back and forth… __I catch it only in my dreams. The clock is ticking overtime, overtime. __I cannot seem to catch a break....

. The Blue Absorbent Towel . As he fillets my leg and makes a flap above my knee of skin to sew it shut, interns are watching closely how the cut is perfect artistry, a suture map, a hemisphere I'm sailing into all alone. That pungent sea of flesh and...

. Ambition We’re dipping our toes in the paddling pool __When we ought to be tackling the seas. There’s no point at all in thinking so small __With the water just up to our knees. We need to be braver, go deeper, work out __What to think, where to go,...

. Windjam Dry leaves abruptly fell that day— Whirled weathervane communiqué Proposing a quick stroll away Along a narrow inlaid path To venture past the aftermath Of an alfresco yellow bath. Emerging from the stonecut room Behind a waterfall’s stray spume, A tenor tone, “May I presume To lift the...

. What Time Is It? “What time is it?” he asks of me, __“It’s now eleven o’clock;” “What time is it?” he asks of me, __As I hear the tick and tock. “What time is it?” he asks of me, __“It’s now eleven o-two;” His eyes light up in childlike...

. Requiem The notes we cherish most Are gathered from the throats Of those who perished young. The song we sadly toast Was sown from wanton oats, Disowned and never sung. . . Role Models __A forager is digging ramps Up on a sunny hill in Tennessee, __Philatelists collecting stamps...

. A Star O silent sphere of silver-soft-spun light,Thou crystal pearl strung on an airy veilSuffusing bright celestial delightIn snowy glory o'er thy starry trail:The bridal necklace of the night inflameWith purer ray, whose brighter progenyUnveils her blushing face, unmarred by shame,With vestal grace’s immortality---Or so at first you seemed...

. Blessings Every now and then when I’m in prayer I feel Your famous joyfulness descend. It doesn’t descend, of course; it’s always there Waiting for us, just as it’s always been. It doesn’t happen often, just enough To keep me moving toward You. I had come To think I...

. On Cats and Love My cat does not explain himself. He knows his reasons. Why must I? He needs to bathe while on a shelf Or hunt some trash? I don’t care why. I do not need to understand. I love him since he’s loyal, kind, And brings me...

. To Find a Waterfall The wild forest is a spiritual place. Disbelief does not last there. Halfway through My span of life, my sunrise-to-set race, I found my trail among the trees anew. Goal for the Spring: to find a waterfall, To trace my pathway out to that grand view....

. Summer of ‘73  It’s sunset and the sidewalk still feels hot. My legs and feet are bare, they do not mind Mosquitos nearly eating me alive. The neighbor kids are starting to come out. We play a game of hide and seek; I hide Up in a tree and...

. Father after "So Far, So Near," by Christopher Pearse Cranch (1813-1892). Father, maker of all spirit, infinite, You can ensphere it. Still, You enter all that's living: raising, guiding, and forgiving. Of all worlds, You are the spawner. You alone deserve our honor. All things good You don't deny...

. Again The bench is near where children play And where she sits to dream and muse. She knows her life will shortly fade— A doleful thought she can't refuse. Her wrinkled skin declares her age, And her eyes, alive years ago When young and lustrous in their shine, Now...

. The Pitcher Plant The insect dances on a pitcher plant drinking deep the fabled honey nectar. The rim affords a place to lean and slant— heedless treads the doomed fructose collector. Advancing where the juice is still more sweet, excess brings him to his tragic blunder: ignoring slippage neath...

. The School Bell The schooldays weave a maze inside my mind, A maze with streets resounding childish zeal; The world was then a fairy land designed For all I thought, a world with grand appeal. That giant bell would ring aloud in pride To end the looming boredom, tasks...

. To My Brother after John Keats When I have fears that I may lose my sight before I've savored books I long to read, before famed writers oust my glooms with light and my starved mind their genius stories feed; When I circuit the nature park, a sightseer, surveying...

. A Mighty Fortress for Diane My eyes ache from the tears still left unshed As I remember all she meant to me. I still can’t quite accept that she is dead And find scant solace in the eulogy. A vibrant life bled out to ashen sod. Faith wavers. Maybe...

. The Five Ages Beneath rose bower and sweet cherry shade Long since have Saturn’s golden people slept And for their sins the silver race were swept Hence and in lightning-blasted clefts were laid; Next were the bronze folk in the balance weighed And wanting found and crumbled into dust;...

. Song of the Snow by Amado Nervo (1870-1919) translated by Isabel Chenot How miraculous Nature is! Doesn't the snow give light? Immaculate and mysterious, tremulous and quiet: it appears to kneel in noiseless praise __while falling … Oh snowfall! your weightless and glacial eucharist this day, my vital sin...

. Bunker Hill: The Death of Joseph Warren from Legends of Liberty, Volume 2 Dramatis Personae Joseph Warren – Physician, spymaster, and major general of the colonial militia William Howe – Commander of the British Forces at Bunker Hill Israel Putnam – Patriot veteran, popularly known as “Old Put” Col....

. Saint Sebastianus Sebastianus, soldier, pinioned, bleeding, Stands at his lonely and forgotten post Unperceived—no, even unsuspected— By the diseased and ulcerated world. Stomachs swollen with dyspeptic lust, Crisscrossing arrows of sharp competition, The noise and energy of the inane— All pass by him without a nod or glance. But...

. Homebound They get too old to come to Mass, too sick, Too shaky on their legs or just too scared To leave the house. The bleak arithmetic Of life has caught them sorely unprepared And suddenly the simple life they shared In prayer within the safety of their pew...

. The Darkened Hill We drove and found the childhood place where you would run and hide for space away from family pain and disgrace. Up to the top of the darkened hill we crept and stopped to drink our fill of midnight growing, falling still. All was quiet in...

. Without a Dad Without a Dad, you are not sure, And never know you could endure The many doubts that blur your sight, Or fears that stalk you every night; If he’s not present, there’s no cure. And then there is the world’s allure That offers all that is...

. Venus Sighed Venus sighed and turned aside, tired of seeing people try to feebly mimic Beauty’s pride, too easily pleasing hungry eyes that eat what they are given. Steeped in heaps of plastic flowers, plastic breasts and plastic towers, the Goddess sought a fleshy bower on which her blessings...

. The Old Native Chieftain The old native chieftain from forests among __Bright sparkling lakes of the tribe, With death approaching instinctively covets __The spot where his transition lies. Reclining in solitude ‘midst verdant hills __Where spirits more closely abide, He’s drawn to rare lightness where portals are linked __To...

. Puffins The puffin’s beak is bright: Quince yellow stripes contrast With chests of fluffy white And wings of satin black, But suit dense orange web feet. When jauntily upcast, Snouts call for tap and clack, Long spells of smack and slap, Headcracking snaps aback As nozzles overlap When friendly...