One Last Candle

The angry storm approaches in the night,
Its curdling howl is heard for miles around.
The trees all flinch in fear of nature’s smite,
Then cast their sobbing leaves upon the ground.

No soul dare venture out to face the storm,
For nature’s wrath is not so lightly scorned.
The lights go out as winds in anger swarm;
The frightened city now lies unadorned.

Yet here I lie in rest with you, my love,
As candles lift the veil that darkness brings.
Securely sleeping like a peaceful dove,
Your arms around me are your regal wings.

I gaze at you when calm outside returns,
And kiss your face as one last candle burns.

 

 

The Cell Tells

Unwise are those who spread unfettered lies,
Who claim that life arose from lifeless ooze.
They choose to see with Darwin’s blinded eyes,
So fail to note creation’s many clues.

They mock the thought that life had guiding hands,
That God designed and breathed life into man.
To boundless chance they bow as ardent fans,
Rejecting truth that tells how life began.

The humble human cell cries out to them
To seek and search within its guarded halls,
For there is found design that will condemn
The lies retold and writ on wobbly walls.

His wondrous work they view with blindfold eyes,
While sipping barren brew from Darwin’s lies.

 

 

Pawn

You sneering king atop this lofty ground,
Your army waits to hear your battle cry.
The rooks and queen with might my pawns astound,
As knights dare tread where bishops fight and die.

The battle rages on, your lines advance;
I hear the snorts of horses close to me.
The end seems near despite my bravest stance,
While you behind your queen now start to flee.

But there where you take rest, my pawn has reached,
And thrusts his silver lance aside your queen.
You howl and see that your lines have been breached;
A pawn has aimed a blow that was unseen.

Your prideful laugh has ended at his hand;
A lowly pawn now mates you where you stand.

 

 

Bleu Cheese Blues

Oh, moldy cheese, why do you tempt me so?
Why call at me with rancid bluish lines?
Your piquant bite makes my saliva flow,
Your texture my aversion undermines.

The raiment on your skin and scent belie
The finest food the mouth can hope to dine.
I am enticed to force my lips to try
Your Bleu d’Auvergne to zest with finest wine.

The Stilton’s bluish veins all Britons prize,
And Gorgonzola shows Italian pride.
Delighting in these blues may seem unwise,
Until a piece defies the lips to slide.

Despite the color of its moldy skin,
I crave to try your Roquefort’s pungent sting.
Its wafting scent will tempt my mouth to sin;
Averting eyes as taste buds start to sing.

 

 

Angel L. Villanueva is a religious man who resides in Massachusetts, enjoying a simple life with his lovely wife, Nina.

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The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary.


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13 Responses

  1. Sally Cook

    Yours are the poems of a man who knows life. And to write of cheese, as Chesterton asks! Thank you.

    Reply
    • Angel L Villanueva

      Thank you much for your kind comment, Sally. I appreciate it. The poem on cheese is the first and only I’ve written on that subject, but hopefully it will not be the only one.

      Reply
  2. Julian D. Woodruff

    Thanks for these! All adroit and tbe 1st a real treasure. “Smite” as a noun is terrific.

    Reply
  3. pat mulholland

    I have never read any of Angel L Villanueva’s work before, but will now. These have lifted my heart, thank you.

    Reply
  5. Joseph S. Salemi

    English Stilton is one of the finest cheeses on earth. Having it with walnuts, dark figs, cream crackers, and a rich ruby Port is a paradisal experience. Especially if followed by a dinner of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

    Reply
    • Angel L Villanueva

      Sounds like a wonderful treat! My wife introduced me to blue cheese in general, and has served it with our meals. A delightful addition for sure.

      Reply
    • Angel L Villanueva

      Thank you for your expression, Mark. I wrote the poem while recalling a summer storm we experienced in our area some years back which knocked out power for days.

      Reply
  7. Monty

    Pure class, Angel. All four pieces are impeccably written; and not a questionable rhyme in sight. I especially liked the first and the fourth; the first grew on me after reading your briefing in the above comment . . and the fourth for its sheer novelty.

    Regarding the second piece: Surely you don’t need me to tell you that you’ve got absolutely no right to refer to Darwin’s theory as “lies”. You’ve got every right to say such words as: “I believe his theory to be lies”.. or: “As far as I’m concerned, Darwin lied”, etc . . those words make it clear that it’s only your opinion. But to talk of “Darwin’s lies” as if it was a proven fact; well, one might get the sense that you’re just trying to convince yourself and/or others of another theory (which happens to be equally unproven).

    Being here’s good enough; it don’t matter how we got here.

    Reply

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