Beauty

  Pygmalion knew these women all too well; his instincts told him he’d better sleep alone. He took to art. —Ovid, The Metamorphoses, Book X His wife will say no living soul should trust that...

  The Last Bard o Scotland Translation by George T. Watt, frae the original by Joseph Charles MacKenzie Watters o Irvine an Annock, Ma saut tears mell wi the sautie ocean, Wast o Arran Isle...

    Read by George T. Watt The Scrieve fae Arbroath Non enim propter gloriam, diuicias aut honores pugnamus set propter libertatem solummodo quam nemo bonus nisi simul cum vita amittit....

  Chapter I Who sings of arms these days? Or even men? The seed of Adam’s tucked inside Eve’s apple, And sits not taking root—his defect’s been Apparent since equality’s long grapple. Poor...

    Rahul Gupta holds a PhD for a thesis on mediaeval Germanic and modern mediaevalist metre and poetics from the University of York. His poetry and translations have appeared hitherto in...

  A Life I Could Not Save She did not feel her age though she was old, But still looked young as she was often told. And so she was a vibrant 95, Happy to be healthy and alive. And yet this cancer...

  Don’t Get Caught The catfish and the trout hum different tunes, But both agree they love hot afternoons When no one wants to fish, when ponds and streams And rivers generate aquatic dreams That...

As the Lights Go Out - the Last Limerick "The night cometh, when no man can work." John, 9:4 by Joe Tessitore I can tell there will be no escape From this hellishly chilling landscape Born of hatred...

  From hoof and hide, to flank and horn, Amid the wood, was noble born, Upon the field I walked at length, Swift in motion, high in strength, And scarcely did I need to boast, Rare of speech,...

  Job 26.8-14 The flash and crash were simultaneous. The whole house shuddered, like it was about to come apart, and all the lights went out. The dogs erupted in a frenzied fuss of frightened...

The Once-Lost Land The arm that threw the disc of day __Across the sky we know must dim, The hand that strewed the Milky Way __Where angels swim, From far beyond the farthest star Composed the darkness...

  Im Fruhling (In Spring) by Ernst Schulze (1789-1817) I sit here lonely on a hill Where skies are clear and blue; The sunset casts a glowing veil Over the deep and tranquil dale— I used to love...

  A very finely scattered sigh Of bashful mist would nigh attend My view and try---one wonders why--- To dare with utmost care to blend The reigning stateliness of trees on high. And yes, my...

  Remember God “Men have forgotten God; that’s why all this has happened.” —Alexandr Solzhenitsyn by Connie Phillips We must remember God in all we do, And keep Him always in our hearts and...

by James A. Tweedie   If a Contemporary Free-Verse Poet Wrote a Sonnet Today, because I’m early for Pilates, __I stop at Starbucks for a cappuccino, __But change my mind because the mocha...

  Carmen Cygni, a Retourne She holds the sickle and the scythe, Dark clothed and hooded, glimpse of white. A dancer languorous but lithe, She stands between the day and night. Dark clothed and...

  translation by Jonathan Shoulta Andromache Will you, my Hector, forever go away to where with unmatched hands Achilles makes Patroclus bloody off'rings? ____________________Who will teach your...

  I pour myself four fingers, or maybe it is five, sit in a broken rocker and slowly close my eyes. I muse on my survival for nigh on eighty years, A victory in heart, despite a wealth of tears. My...

  Mere words have not the power to convey the loveliness laid out before my eyes; this triumph of rebirth; this lustrous day; this crowning of Creation’s enterprise. This is the time when man and...

  This Luxurious Empire Vesuvius, you have destroyed a world! __With roars of fire and thunder, hails of ash, __You've hurled your blistering soul, with sulfurous flash Of fire-lightning—certain...

  What curve, what contrapposto, shift of weight, Recalls the tusk from which some Gothic hand Had carved the Paris Virgin holding straight My King enthroned upon an ivory stand! What smiles, no...

  for Mark F. Stone and all his pets The duck has special properties: Like water off its back; If only we as humans could Perfect the duck’s dry knack. It’s not that water isn’t there Or...

  Unbridled Change O tempora! O mores!... Fuit ista quondam in hac re publica virtus... ---Cicero, First Catiline Oration These days of changing values can be hard: What once was just, today's...

  The Author He portrays a lonely figure In his cottage by the sea With his pencil and his paper and his dog. Gone his youthful verve and vigour But remaining in its lee Is the gift that soon will...

  A Soliloquy on Modern Poetry  I write this, a soliloquy Regarding modern poetry. I don’t appreciate the terse Disheveled nature of free verse. So much of it just seems contrived And of true...

  Waters of Irvine and Annock, flow with my tears, West to the Firth of Clyde and Arran: Soon, soon, Ayr will be mute and barren. Flow, waters, flow, like the passing of long, lost...

  Now breaking through the crust of snow, pale messengers appear To herald with celestial glow the springtime of the year; With gentle boldness, bursting forth, They beckon warming winds...

  My Coat---a Haiku God pays no heed to disguises He can see through--- I've worn myself out.   The Old Poet's Tree I'm bent with age and the cold, empty page has a lesson it can...

  Orchards Let Light In “Oh to be like ‘The Man who Planted Trees’” There is a grove that in the meadow grows Where stately fruit-filled stanchions bloom And in the fruit there is a juice...

Psalm CIV: Benedic, Anima Mea O praise the Lord, my soul. The aspens sigh As high above Mount Axtell in blue sky The hawk cries out God’s glory, and the clouds Grow to a thunderhead that blots and...

On a Bereavement I Mourning Sickness Can anybody say how long it lasts, This numbness that deceives while it relieves The harrowed brain? My senseless state contrasts So markedly with that of he who...

  20 January 2020 My father died, just yesterday, and mom About a year ago; I’m filled with grief For things that were not, might have been, and now Will never be. I’d felt that death would...

  In a time long ago, where the high myrtles grow, Lived a tribe of the Bellenden Range. While below, on the plain, in their tropic domain Lived a tribe known for hostile exchange; They had...

  Icy, biting breezes cut like knives; Sea-spray wave crests crash upon the shore; Silent, unseen clam and crab life writhes, Buried neath the surf’s incessant roar. Winter beach grass, windblown,...

  Through barren fields, beside the ruins of man, The sunlight hardens stains of blood and gore; Macabre deeds that years ago began, Their horror still would haunt forevermore. This open graveyard...

  I have been bid into the House of Song To merry-make at Inspiration’s fest Alas! I fear my raiment would but wrong The stately host and every lofty gest! See there the orphrey wrought with...

                                      Amy Foreman...

translated by Leo Zoutewelle To you my word will be reproached as lie, Maliciously: “who left you so maligned, In vain are all the days in which you pined For him who cheated you and made you...

  A Truly Perfect Love My fingertips caress your hair and I no longer have a care about what happens in this mortal plane. I lay you down upon the bed and then I gently touch your head and you...

Aranjuez (ar-ON-wess) has been one of the estates of the royal family of Spain. It is near Madrid and the Tajo (TAW-hoe) River flows through it. The Fountain of the Thorn includes, as its centerpiece, a...