Beauty

  Allow for growth; dig wide—but not too deep. Add soil amender to the raw red clay. Remove the rope. Take burlap bag away. Surround the root ball, mulch and go to sleep. And as the roots unfold and slowly creep, you’ll dream of branches long that lean and sway....

The Great War The world abruptly shattered Colossal was the war And of it’s better victims The gentler arts of yore. Such shards of glass, well scattered, Across the global floor As rhyming verse in meter To coalesce no more. Yet now and then a fragment May briefly glint and...

Sancta Dei Genetrix by Joseph Charles MacKenzie Pure Mother of divine Simplicity, Being-in-Himself now slumbers in thy creche, For, thou hast tightly wrapped Infinity In swaddling clothes and thine untainted flesh; Perfection’s Prince, the self-subsistent One, Is rocked within the cradle of thine arms; In Him we see God’s Word,...

The angler knows the stream, exactly where to cast the line. The fish in turn suspects what offers food disguises danger though it's urged to search the spot. The two engage in grueling fights, dead baits don’t care who dies. The eagle soars above the peaks, from there the glen...

Heart Bleeding heart, a kindly soul Drives demand, you give your gold, Not for the cause they imbue, Guilt sequestered deep in you. Heavy, heavy, heavy heart: A joyous life's counterpart You’re undone by whispered words Hearing darkness over heard. Faint of heart you’ll always be Overwhelmed, harsh tyranny, Cautious...

Translated by Jarek Zawadzki Upon the New Year's Day no fragrant flowers came out, Not till the second month did buds begin to sprout. The snow humiliates the spring for being late, And sprays white petals in the garden all about.   Original Chinese 韩愈 《春雪》 新年都未有芳华，二月初惊见草芽。 白雪却嫌春色晚，故穿庭树作飞花。   Jarek...

(All poetry by Bruce Dale Wise) Ancient Melodies by Ercules Edibwa No longer are they heard, the ancient melodies of Greece, so beautiful and lovely to the ear. One now can only imagine their mellow ease played o’er the centuries, so far are they from here. Like waters from th’...

  As I grow old and frail, you will support me still. If I should shout or rail, calmly, you peace instill. If I judge unfairly against innocent cause; you say to warily apply the rule of laws. As I grow old and frail, you love without reserve; good humor,...

  A Visit from St. Nicholas, 1823 by Clement Clarke Moore 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children...

  Of Roland and of Kings I sing of Arthur and Excalibur, The Table Round and fealty professed By knights devoted to a noble quest For what was right and good, and pure. I sing of Percival and Bedivere; Of Tristan, Kay, Gareth and Adragain; Of Galahad, Gaheris, and Gawain;...

  A poem's truth, when presently revealed Inside its lines where they had first congealed Will fill you with a youthful ardent joy— Like first unwrapping ribbons on a toy, Or spring, when fragrant warmths of mulchy earth Stew flowers cocking back their heads in mirth As coldly chirping birds...

  As autumn breezes blow away The warmth of summer’s sun, Then shortened is the light of day When we had danced as one. The prelude to the winter snow Is sung by icy rain, The rosiness of dawn’s soft glow Usurped by cloudy stains. The bitter winds strip off...

Pinhead While sitting on a pinhead __Stuck in an angel's wing Holding still a piece of thread __I tap my head to think, I tap again, to no avail, __It seems I have forgot The answer to the riddle, __“If not, then what?”   A Single Blade of Grass A...

a villanelle Be still now and let them go. Their trials and losses fade away. Briefly, they were yours to sow. Children stumble, cry, and grow. They are young and so they stray. Be still now and let them go. Work the ground and sweat and hoe; Plant them for...

  Here Comes the Hybrid Bus Here comes that brand new hybrid bus Round the street so pretty; It's length so long it makes the turn, And bends right round the city. It's certainly looking very clean, All spic and span and bright; Too bad that not a single soul...

on the state of poetry today I see the threads have all aligned __In a patchwork tapestry That seemed at first all but resigned __To the death of poetry. The colors of the patchwork poems, __Splendid though each of them seems, Are mismatched swaths cut off from homes, __Fraying fast...

Traditional Sacred Polyphonist of England Wilton! Could music make the dead to rise, Spare life its toil, move wills from sloth, Bind happy lovers in their troth, Or lift a heart to soar upon the skies, Rather would I your holy strains to hear, That breathe of the eternal life...

Ms. Hayden, On Your Selection of Our Next Poet Laureate: For poetry to rise again Seek one who has applied the pen To that which all can understand, To verse which is sublime and grand. Choose one who writes for all to read, Who is from all pretension freed, Who...

Politician or Poet When in one’s soul the politician calls forth – The poet’s voice withers and comes to naught. And poems become a bedlam of propaganda Praising the party’s agenda. The poet’s pain…  His cruel fate… Has brought censorship and hate. He’s now consumed with different fires… Only the...

The Hindu's Lament As I passed a lonely temple in the after-evening glow, On the banks of the Ganges where the quiet waters flow, When the sun had sunk to rest and cool softness touched the air, I saw a dark-skinned Indian and I heard him chant this prayer: Bhagwan! ...

  When born, they said he came into the light! He realised soon it's another kind of gloom, where innocence had lost to odious blight and wisdom went crisscross in carnal looms. With his one foot on earth and one in space he strived too long thinking of his perdu...

The Poet's Soul with Artful Pen Few will read with understanding What the poet is intending. Nouns and verbs are still concealing Concepts with a double meaning. Adjectives, and adverbs too, Are used in ways that men find new. A word familiar with strange ending Pirouettes on what's portending. Misty...

Not how we're seen but what we do determines beauty's stride, for seeds of virtue catered to are planted deep inside. Not what we see but how perceived in nature's many sides determines how the world's received as force of will collides. Not when we do but why we strive...

Cell Block Twenty-Nine I haven’t seen the sun for days, Nor felt Compassion’s gentle ways; My body’s weak, but courage stays, In Cell Block Twenty-Nine. They tell me “Falun Gong’s a lie!” And if I don’t renounce, I’ll die For price of liver, lung, or eye, In Cell Block Twenty-Nine....

Attentive to the dawning light, a poem has much in common with a plant: the crown delivers photosynthate through the phloem to earthbound roots—as thoughts are channeled down to partner up with images (concrete ones are preferred) from native stock; from roots the living water is conveyed to meet essential...

Much too small for a plow, __but I dig anyhow __till there’s sweat on my brow __from the weeds that I fight. I know others may yawn __at that part of my lawn __that I spend my time on, __but it brings me delight. At the end of the day,...

Presented by Monty Phillips Given that the recent days have been rightfully occupied by the remembering of the humans who never made it home from World War 1, I thought I might highlight a less represented species; many of whom also never made it home from that War. It’s said...

The Garden of Life In wee, assuring spans of sunlit day, The sun awakened, rides his carriage fast To paint with crimson every corner passed, To cheer the silent buds of torrid May. My garden here in wintry menace shakes, While neither spring nor summer visit once; The busy bee...

  On sunny days We’re filled with “me.” “I’m on my own And feeling free!” We have our job, And casual friends. The world feels strong Like it won’t end. Then clouds roll in, And lightning, too. Our plans all fail; Life’s bills come due. A friendship fades. A lover...

inspired by the Book of Hebrews To carry close a fishing net of gold or sea-green thread, __a-woven by some skillful hands, with ruby borders bound, a massive net, with onyx weights, and glass-blown floats, deep red – __against one’s chest to press this, while it drapes cascading down. To...

At Dusk At dusk, when high above the darkening trees, __The swallows in the deep blue dip and soar, As if in flying higher, still to squeeze __The last delicious moments that before ____The light into the West steals off and dies, ____I dream that they are dancing for my...

  Behold the cloud-graced monoliths That stretch against the sky Into the boundless sanctity Where wind swift eagles fly. Primal valleys bloom to life As tumbling waters sing, Resurrected from the heights Where ancient glaciers cling. Time is without measure In a world no one can claim; Blessèd be the...

  "Write on!" the Masters from the shadows cried. "By your thin air we breathe, nor ever died; Your modest dress, our glorious raiment shares And witness to our sun, your candle bears. "Ignored, reviled, by fashion shut away, We are not stilled, nor sleep as common clay; We are...

  The Age of Poetry They say that poetry’s a young man’s game, indulged while still limber, lithe, and healthy enough to dance all night with energy. Without concern for funding and fickle fame, artists, in their youth, burning with passion’s flame, can better ignore the bruises of poverty, the...

by James Sale Carol Smallwood In the Measuring is a substantial new collection of 77 poems by Carol Smallwood. Carol is well-known to readers of The Society of Classical Poets, as her poems regularly appear on its site; and furthermore, she is a well-respected and widely published poet throughout the...

  In Officio Exsequarium Come, let us bid the last of our farewells To one who sleeps on the retiring ship; November’s breath respires the mournful knells; “Lord, give him rest” is murmured lip to lip. What is our life, if not a morning dew, A flash of light upon...

Autumn Wind by Yuan Xi, translated by Jennifer Zeng and Damian Robin From far off, Autumn wind runs at us in a rush! Across a thousand miles, displacing clouds with sky, (And crowding through the dark, tense soldiers in a hush), Then past the cliff, through countless pines, like echoes...

John of the Mountains To him we owe a mammoth debt, our grateful thanks and praise, For the lasting conservation trails with foresight he did blaze. A “voice calling in the wilderness,” like John the Baptist, he Preached love of God’s Creation – mountain, waterfall, and tree. When first he...

This universe of ours will end As we then return to the source. No more wounds to tend or to mend, As the source will chart a new course. When all the sands of time run out And existence must start anew, Our souls will be out and about, To...

The Ballerina Just before the break of day she woke from dreams of grand jeté and knelt beside her bed to pray. Like a feather, then she rose and slipped into her warm-up clothes to dance in silence on her toes. Evening and the house lights fell. Curtain up! she...