Beauty

. A Grain of Sand A grain of sand got lodged into __A little seagull's eye. He spluttered with indignant rage, __"Now I can't even fly!" And so his eye grew worse and worse, __The seagull shrieked and whined. Until one day the poor old bird __Eventually turned blind! A...

. Evensong The embers dimmed on the Pacific; _The sky a scarlet hue. One might conclude the fire seraphic--- _A seascape brushed by the muse. Some mares’ tails smudged the vista with soot _While gulls alighted on sand. The beach was wet---I’d not set foot _And desecrate this strand. The...

. A Bogus Bishop’s Prayer My prayer is not pitched heavenward _To fall upon deaf ears. It’s lashed to Earth for greater good. _It cashes in on tears. It's feathered several nests for years--- _I'm Croesus-rich and famed. I’m feasting at the public trough _And I am not ashamed. My...

. Another Winter Another winter's growing old. __Another spring is coming. Another hive, gripped by a branch, __Will make its endless thrumming. Another smile's to soon emerge __From pastel white primroses. Another swallowtail will grace __Our garden with her poses. Another year for taking out __The worn clothes from my...

. On the Porch The roof and eaves, low walls or none, slim railings, Contrive a sense of shelter customary. Worn floor between front steps and door betokens Minutes or hours of ease preliminary. The aura framed by any style of column Enhances intimate communication, For porch-positioned outlooks gently foster,...

. Reflections on Still Waters . Isaiah 55:12 You shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace, And a song will break forth from the lands. While the echoes of praise in the hills never cease, And the trees of the field clap their hands. . 1...

. Lament to the Passing of Paper I learned to write my A-B-Cs and form my shapely 1-2-3s on paper, when I was a lad; but now, since I’ve become a dad, the era of the written word is passing like the dodo bird. The whisper of the turning page,...

. A Summer Hour A burgeoning bush, some butterflies, Low wooden steps, warped, faded, rise Amid the calm of idle talk— The blur of shadows on the walk. Sometimes a passing, random thought Within winged fantasy is caught, While puffed clouds in a bowl of blue Lie quiet in the...

. Concerning Snow ---a conversation between Beauty and Necessity “Well, there you go again.” “What's that?” “Come now, don't act so innocent. You see that plow out there, defacing what it took all night for me to sculpt.” “Now listen, let’s not fight about this, not again. It’s only snow,...

. Classic Case History Though I was blind, it wasn’t hard to see That blindness was a gift at least as good As any other. People seeing me As someone less insightful than he should Have been were blurry shadows on a field Of murky gray, and I was able...

. The Grindstone The grindstone spun as fiery sparks were sprayed,for even iron broke against his force,and by his edge the blunt became the bladea king would hold upon his charging horse. The stone was proud to be of use to kings,for by his work the grindstone was defined,and loved...

. Forecast One to Two Inches Within the snow’s approach I sense a hope Connected more to memory than truth. It fails to fall within the narrow scope Of solid message; seems instead a trope For something bright and clear and lost: A Midwest morning; backyard winter-tossed; A world made...

. The Untimely Demise of My Dear Uncle Sam I received the somber news __as sun set low today. My beloved Uncle Sam __by death was swept away. It wasn’t on the battlefield that __he met his demise. ‘Twas long before when men ignored __the counsel of the wise. Through...

. Accidents Happen We’re told time tends toward catastrophe, And that a butterfly’s ephemeral wings Might quake the sky somewhere across the sea By strange cascades of simple happenings, Arousing thus a violent hurricane; Which is to say that no one really knows Just how or why occurrences occur, But...

. The Settlers —to my forefathers, and all the intrepid men and womenwho settled the Oklahoma panhandle. Across these barren hills, the cold winds blow,As bitter now as in those days long past,When first their rustic wagon, rolling slow,Came down a slope against an icy blast, And settled on this...

. Snow Sonnet Where silent flakes of whiteness fill the air And cutting winds of winter come to rule The bitter storm of new year strips all bare With iciness at once perfect and cruel. We drift into an otherworldly realm Where spectral pallor shrouds the sleeping earth Such beauty...

. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Silently beats an invisible clock. Night turns to day, day turns to night. Following a metronome nowhere in sight. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Sixty seconds make a minute. Sixty minutes, the hour limit. Twenty-four hours beget a day. Seven-day weeks just slip...

. Autumn Twilight Full moon. Crickets singing. Scarlet sky.Long past summer solstice; now the sunDescends before the short day’s work is done.Last light and fast-invading violet vieTo shape inconstant shadows. Moving cloudsRe-sculpt themselves, suffusing the horizonWith sunset’s deepening watercolor-crimson.Together with the cricket choir, crowdsOf brittle oak leaves rattle---tambourinesSyncopating nightfall’s music....

. The Introvert Sequestered in an abstract mood,Replete in blissful solitude;Behind the veil of scenes overtYou’ll find the pensive introvert. You may not find him center stage,The Hercules of any age;But like the spy who goes unseenHe functions best behind the scenes. The kind of friendship that he seeks,The few...

. Libra There in my hand I held a crystal vial Of distillation potent, red, and sweet, By which my broken heart was put on trial, And golden apples scattered at my feet. Ask not the name of him who gave to me The dark elixir, nor the price I...

. On Bill Mahrt’s Retirement as Choirmaster of the St. Ann Choir (June, 2024) W e all should thank our God for William Mahrt, I nto whose hands He placed a sacred trust, L eaving to him to keep the aural art L aid down with care, but left to...

. I Will Awaken the Dawn The birds have yet to echo Their songs across the trees, The sun has yet to whistle Its foggy rays in streams, The dark still holds the world, Creation slumbers on; But now the time has come, And I will awaken the dawn. The...

. True Love On a hill far away, a true love waits, In a place of weathered, broken gates. And though the gates are falling down, One place on the hill is hallowed ground. Nothing moves on that faraway hill, But dry, dead leaves and a wind that’s chill. And...

. Another Crossroads I have a rendezvous with destiny.It’s at the crossroads of Straight Street and Main.With cardboard sign, that man rules his domain.(Cops do not bother with such vagrancy.)Some iced tea and granola bars—my snack.The green light cautions, quickly turns to red.The dude certainly does not look well fed.He’ll...

. The Magic Trick Another dove spawns from the wizard's hat. A youngster, goggle-eyed, forgets to clap, enchanted by the spell. With every flap this spongy creature makes, he wonders at the skill required to master such a craft. Last stunt, and then the curtains will unfurl. Dissected in two...

. Cloth of Destiny From his jail cell, he preached civility— despite the agony centuries had brought. Proud Rosa occupied a seat; though fraught with risk, that act preserved her dignity. We dreamed of equal opportunity, and bloody segregation’s end besought. King asked: “How can such justice not be wrought...

. Anticipating President Trump’s Golden Age Unburdened from that which has recently been. An era of progress about to begin. Mending the messes afflicting our nation. Ending the slow California-cation. Money for groceries, and eggs by the crate. Payments to credit cards, never made late. Dining, at times, at a...

Free People In some sense, free people have no needOf poets to give their speech a better voice.But freedom wanes without great art and heedOf powers that will enslave us with rejoiceIf only given a chance. They’re here again,Insidious as ever, they’ll try to seduceAnd lull the hearts of good...

. Stones for My Parents I didn’t want to come. How sad it sounded To kneel beneath a hazy sun surrounded By strangers’ graves---grim watchmen for the bones Of those who’ve crossed the Bridge. The ghosts outnumber The living---I can’t even count the stones. But somewhere in these rows I...

. Whoever Am I? Preface to His Poetry .by Prudentius (c. 4th century AD)translated by Margaret Coats If I see clear, through fifty yearsI’ve lived. The seventh after them appears to wheelAround as we enjoy these whirling circlings of the sun. My end is near, and every dayThat God may...

. The Hectic Life _Sometimes we get discouraged _With life and all its fuss, Its raucous moments speeding by _Like children on a bus. _It’s all the hectic worries, _The troubles and the stress, That pull us down and tear us up _And make our life a mess. _They make...

. Death Is But a Passing A death is but a passing from one world into another, A change of state, a change of place, a starting to discover, A test of fortitude perhaps for those I leave behind, A change of worlds, a change of views, another state of...

. Pearls or Swine? Pray show me how to tell a pearl from swine. I have a thirst for sanity to slake. I seek a clue---a firm not fluid sign To steer me from the sway of all that’s fake. While Einsteins whine and eggheads bellyache, As boundaries blur and...

. Best of the Windy City Nation’s hub and culture center, O’Hare Airport, millions enter. Stunning architecture sites, The awesomeness of Frank Lloyd Wright; Union Stockyards fed the nation; Second City improvisation; Lake Shore Drive, no road just like it, Drive or bike or even hike it; Cow that caused...

. Elusive Illusive Art Where are the pure, illusive works of artthat bubble upward from the deep unknown?Where in this world are worlds Art sets apart? Duct tape? A banana fresh from the cart?Renoir would recoil and Monet would moan.Where are the pure, illusive works of art? A gallery is...

. A Pleased Jaques ---after a soliloquy in Shakespeare's As You Like It At first there is the infant, grinning widebecause he has escaped his nurse's armsand her chagrin, in short shirt takes his stridearound the corner, swaggering with charms. Next comes the busy schoolboy in the morn.He's running off...

. My Soul Is at Home in the Depths of the Ocean My soul is at home in the depths of the ocean; My soul is at home in the cosmos above, Always adventuring, seeking to grow and Wreathing my body in infinite love. My soul permeates every stone on...

. The Lemon Tree We leave the house, the nurtured lawn is gone; The garden still resembles lifeless works Of abstract art; at times banana leaves Seem painted by a brush. I look upon The fruiting lemon tree, a souvenir My father gifted me some years ago; He says such...

. Out in the Open The slanting rain comes on and on! The cold drops blear and blur the sun When they hang in my eyelashes. My heavy stomp in the mud mashes The leaves and twigs and mud together. I plough on through the battering weather. I walk with...

. Magna Lex ---to the choirmaster, a Psalm (19) of David. . I The heavens herald God’s resplendency; The skies above display his artistry. By day the discourse spills like falling rain; Deep verities the night’s dim lights explain. There is no language, not a jangling word, No resonance, no...