"Wanderer in a Storm" by Julius von Leypold‘Winter’s Call’ and Other Poetry by Angel L. Villanueva The Society November 17, 2019 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 14 Comments Winter’s Call O, can you hear her? Yonder autumn days? A siren’s voice, as silent steps she takes? Her nuanced hymn brings frosty morning haze, And warns the trees to brace for pearly flakes. Her feigned allure she pairs with lovely sights, And softly laughs when warmth she steals from me. I fear her touch, for long will be the nights; She’ll hold my face, until spring sets me free. And yet, her comely gown I yearn to see, As she performs her waltzes in the day. So soft her smile as she begins her spree, My heart applauds the dazzling white ballet. Through autumn’s haze her words I faintly hear; She pleads with me, her cold arms not to fear. Should Words Fail Me Should I be lying on our bed As darkness waits for my last breath, Upon your face I wish to shed My one last glance, then laugh at death. Should frailty cause my arms to die, And I’m unable hugs to share, Please know with every breath I sigh, My love for you I will declare. Should darkness veil my aging eyes, And keep your lovely face from me, I will replay the smile I prize, Within my mind, where I can see. Should words then fail to freely flow From my old lips to say goodbye, With my last breath you’ll surely know How deeply you are loved, and why. Long Is A Poet’s Night Return, my muse, my voice give back, For night has yet to settle down. As sundown dims to shades of black, My thoughts in fading ink now drown. My fleeting words are barely there, Unnoticed, lines that crave the light. So please, my friend, see my despair, And grant me words that I may write. This darkness hides the world outside; It veils my eyes so I can’t see. Rich colors daylight had supplied, But now my words will not pour free. Beside the window, dressed in black, I sit, and frown, for night has won. My coffee cools, my pen holds back, My muse has left me, like the sun. Angel L. Villanueva is a religious man who resides in Massachusetts, enjoying a simple life with his lovely wife, Nina. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 14 Responses Janice Canerdy November 17, 2019 Reading these beautiful, skillfully-written poems was a fine way to start my day. I especially like the sonnet, in which the sustained personification shines like a diamond! Reply Angel L Villanueva November 17, 2019 Thank you so much, Janice. I appreciate your comment. Glad to know you enjoyed the poem too. I have a love hate relationship with winter, but in the end, I do enjoy the beauty the season brings. Reply JJ Douglas November 17, 2019 Should Words Fail is simply beautiful and brilliant, and stunning in its apparent simplicity- my wife cried. Reply Angel L Villanueva November 17, 2019 Thank you very much for the comment and for sharing your wife’s reaction, JJ. The poem is one I added to the card I gave my wife this year on our 37th anniversary. It’s now her favorite from among all the others she has received. Reply James Sale November 17, 2019 I love the simplicity and paradox of your Long is a Poet’s Night: the paradox being that the muse comes to you despite her having left you! Brilliant, the balance point where the conscious mind despairs, and there – she enters in. Really, really good work. Thank you. Reply Angel L Villanueva November 17, 2019 Thank you, James. I had hoped to capture the angst a poet feels when unable to write. I’ve had plenty of such days. Reply dave Whippman November 17, 2019 Skilfully written, especially “Should Words Fail Me”. Reply Angel L Villanueva November 17, 2019 Much appreciated, Dave! Reply Denise November 17, 2019 It occurs to me that the first poem (Winter’s Call) could be a metaphor for the third (Long is a Poet’s Night) both recalling St. John of the Cross’s “Dark Night of the Soul.” Lovely works. Reply Angel L Villanueva November 17, 2019 Thank you for the nice comment, Denise! Reply Leo Zoutewelle November 18, 2019 Angel, Reading these beautiful poems of yours makes me want to stop what I was doing and write a new poem myself! Thank you. Leo Reply Angel L Villanueva November 19, 2019 Delighted that you like them, Leo. Thank you! Reply Monty November 19, 2019 The word ‘sumptuous’ comes to mind easily, Angel: all three of these pieces are top-drawer poetry . . what a gift you’ve got. And how well you exhibit – in your third piece – that the muse simply will not be dictated to. Well played. Reply Angel L Villanueva November 19, 2019 Thank you very much for your kind and encouraging comment, Monty. 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