"Winter Landscape with Cottages" by Vasiliy Yefimovich Ekgorst‘Caring’ and Other Poetry by Lionel Willis The Society January 15, 2022 Beauty, Poetry 6 Comments . Caring Now, while Winter’s noisy emptiness moans In the flue, Dearest, look out at all these Somberly unimpatient silent trees Holding aloft their abject skeletons: Can new flesh somehow sprout from human bones Like April’s tender leaves? Can memories Of touches lost refind their first surprise As roots grope darkward to refresh those crowns? Striking, those vegetable paragons Of unrelenting hopefulness! What frees Us, prisoners of this weak flesh, to rise Above our towering need? Caring postpones Our gaping night. Caring buds new leaves where We stand, weeping. Dear Heart, we care! We care! . . The Hearth Altar A fire cannot tend itself. It needs Fuel that time drags in. The hardwood weights My arms to serve the appetite it feeds, Slaves to the heat consumption radiates. I measure out my days in lengths of wood. All other tasks get punctuated in My kneeling sacrifices to this good And faithful savior of my wintered skin. A sudden chill: I shiver in my chair And jump to duty where my waiting’s wanted. By words distracted for a moment there, I almost took the god of warmth for granted. . . Rime This rime is on the grass But will sublimely pass And then the grass will go To sleep beneath the snow. . . Lionel Willis was born in Toronto in 1932. He has been a mosaic designer, portrait painter, watercolorist, biological illustrator, field entomologist and professor of English Literature as well as a poet. His verse has appeared in A Miscellany of Prints and Poems, The Canadian Forum, Candelabrum Poetry Magazine, Descant, Dream International Quarterly, Harp Strings Poetry Journal, Hrafnhoh, Iambs & Trochees, Light, Romantics Quarterly, The Classical Outlook, The Society of Classical Poets, The Deronda Review, The Eclectic Muse, The Fiddlehead, The Formalist, The Lyric, The Road Not Taken, Troubadour and White Wall Review, and in two books, The Dreamstone and Other Rhymes (The Plowman, 2003) and Heartscape, a Book of Bucolic Verse (EIDOLON, 2019). NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments. CODEC News: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) 6 Responses Adam Wasem January 15, 2022 Isn’t it nice To nail a riff like “Rime?” Am I wrong to think Frost Was on your mind? Reply Cynthia Erlandson January 15, 2022 There are some exquisite phrases here: “Winter’s noisy emptiness moans in the flue” and “Holding aloft their abject skeletons” are both extremely descriptive, as is “the heat consumption radiates”. And I like the way you’ve fit both internal rhyme and end rhyme in such a short “rime”. Reply Paul Freeman January 15, 2022 The ‘slants’ you use add another dimension to your work. Thanks for the reads, Lionel. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant January 17, 2022 Lionel, I love this trio of poetic delights, especially the beautifully expressed, heart-touching musings of “Caring”. If only “new flesh somehow sprout[ed] from human bones/Like April’s tender leaves…” I’m in the autumn of my years and my leaves are threatening to wrinkle and drop… need I say more. I also love “The Hearth Altar”. I like the way that days are measured out in lengths of wood. My equivalent is “The Avian Altar” and my days are measured out in handfuls of birdseed… your metaphor is far superior. “Rime” is the icing on the poetry cake. Thank you for a wonderful read! Reply C.B. Anderson January 17, 2022 In the third line of “Caring” you employ the delicious litotes (or wicked periphrasis) of “unimpatient.” You serve the language every bit as well as the language serves you. I have seen the rime on Mt. Washington in October. And I think you’ve got the physics exactly right. It doesn’t ever really melt–it just sublimates. For that matter, I thought all three were sublime. You might be surprised to learn that I have been reading your poems in a number of venues for some two decades now. Reply Lionel Willis January 20, 2022 Adam, Cynthia, Paul, Susan and C. B. : Thank you all for your encouraging comments. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.