Poetry

. My Beatrice III Affording still these glimpses like the first, those moments you were yet without a name; between us was the distance untraversed: the bringing into being what you became. Four times I...

. A Musical Offering When Bach arrived at Sanssouci, King Frederick said, “Sir, you must be tired. My fortepianos may help to revive you. Please, come play.” While Bach was busy at the keys, the king...

. The Fall of Time A Haiku Sonnet . Thinning coat of frost Whitening the ground with grief— Love forever lost Wrinkles on the leaf Yellowing a lawn undone— Beauty all too brief Spots upon the...

. Off Guard Coyotes drag their quarry past the line  Drawn in the sand to stop the ghastly game   Of selling wide-eyed tots to vile swine---   No money-grubbing cur is barred by shame. Wild mules haul...

. A Temporary Exhibit A million drops of water will be sprayed Across my yard today. And each of them Will capture the refraction of each blade Of grass, each dandelion leaf and stem. Each image is reversed...

. Masks When tourists arrive in our village, The question that most of them ask, Is, “Why is it all of your menfolk, Are walking around wearing masks?” Well, it started way back in the sixties, While...

. Left Outside The shopping cart, precisely ordered now while searching for those perfect little lines of lights for decorations---anyhow, I'm sure there must be something that combines with lights around the...

. Sunshine Sun, shine on me—come and stay! Dry my tears, send gloom away. Warm my soul, chilled to the bone By the freezing wind that’s blown. With your reassuring light Put my griefs and fears to...

. Gawain’s Prayer in the Wilderness …the wildrenesse of Wyrale; wonde ther bot lyte That auther God other gome with gode hert louied. (…the wilderness of Wirral; few wandered there Who loved with good...

. Had I held you in the fields of Hay beside The Wye and on an afternoon that cleared To brilliance, although the sun soon would Sink to an evening in which darkness neared, Nothing so near as never---we could...

. In a Home based on Michael Bunker’s grandmother (b. 1909) as described in his book Surviving Off Off-Grid . I Old, blind, and helpless, Grandma’s all alone— Bed, radio, phone, and nothing...

. The Best Poems of 2023: Winners of the 12th Annual SCP International Poetry Competition Judges Joseph S. Salemi, James Sale, Evan Mantyk, Sally Cook, James A. Tweedie, Susan Jarvis Bryant, Adam Sedia, C.B....

. First Place ($200 Prize) "A Star" John Freeborn, Logos Online School, 12th grade student in Concordia, Kansas. . Second Place "Child's Laughter" Jane Schulert, 10th grade student at Redeemer Classical...

. A Wing-stroked Spectacle Segmented sets of starlings sharply elevate towards candescent skies, suspend, then circulate in sync. Their wingspans whisper sunset symphonies while manifesting silhouetted...

. A Pro Who Can Con “Truth” is whatever will further the movement. You’re “credible” if you are telling the “truth.” “School” is my method to inculcate values into the minds of our pliable...

. A Blanket of Snow from childhood memories of the blizzard of 1949 on a farm near Bonesteel, South Dakota. The world is all bound in a blanket of snow, The kerosene lamps keep the windows aglow. The fire...

. Unshackling the Spirit I toss and turn at night. I wonder why I’m here. But then with dawn the skeptic’s free, Dismissing faith and scoffing at the sky. I’m certain---Oh so certain---all I see Is...

. Once the Future You were the future once, not long ago. Your sterile walls of concrete, brick, and glass Outlined in steel, and jutting angles show Scorn for the forms you thought you could surpass. That...

. Learning to Laugh The pathos of a circus clown, with empty pockets inside out, now challenges a small boy’s frown. Bewildered by the mimicked pouts, the racoon eyes and painted tears, he wonders what this...

. I Can’t Be Bought I can’t be bought. They always pan my poems and they have a plan to pay me if I will agree to stop composing poetry. They say I am an also-ran. Who cares if they are not a fan! My trek...

. Another Day How time has wasted, over time, over time. __At least to me, that’s how it seems. Oh how I’ve chased it, back and forth, back and forth… __I catch it only in my dreams. The clock is...

. The Blue Absorbent Towel . As he fillets my leg and makes a flap above my knee of skin to sew it shut, interns are watching closely how the cut is perfect artistry, a suture map, a hemisphere I'm sailing...

. Dear Death… Don't tickle with your sickle __Don't taunt me when I'm sick. Don’t make me writhe. Don’t spare the scythe. __Be slick and stick me quick. Don’t waltz me long and slowly __Through...

. Ambition We’re dipping our toes in the paddling pool __When we ought to be tackling the seas. There’s no point at all in thinking so small __With the water just up to our knees. We need to be braver, go...

. https://www.youtube.com/shorts/S2VaIdhn3kg?feature=share https://www.youtube.com/shorts/t99I9LcfEhs?feature=share https://www.youtube.com/shorts/4P99bbEAh-0?feature=share . . Andrew Benson Brown has...

. Windjam Dry leaves abruptly fell that day— Whirled weathervane communiqué Proposing a quick stroll away Along a narrow inlaid path To venture past the aftermath Of an alfresco yellow bath. Emerging from...

. What Time Is It? “What time is it?” he asks of me, __“It’s now eleven o’clock;” “What time is it?” he asks of me, __As I hear the tick and tock. “What time is it?” he asks of...

. Requiem The notes we cherish most Are gathered from the throats Of those who perished young. The song we sadly toast Was sown from wanton oats, Disowned and never sung. . . Role Models __A forager is...

. A Star O silent sphere of silver-soft-spun light,Thou crystal pearl strung on an airy veilSuffusing bright celestial delightIn snowy glory o'er thy starry trail:The bridal necklace of the night inflameWith...

. Blessings Every now and then when I’m in prayer I feel Your famous joyfulness descend. It doesn’t descend, of course; it’s always there Waiting for us, just as it’s always been. It doesn’t happen...

. On Cats and Love My cat does not explain himself. He knows his reasons. Why must I? He needs to bathe while on a shelf Or hunt some trash? I don’t care why. I do not need to understand. I love him since...

. The Plight of a Troubled Young Soul Parts I and II are paraphrases of actual notes. . I. Not Today I know I’m ill; I am not well. In truth, I want to end it all. I want to toll my own death knell. I wish...

. Failing at History She always argued when I used to say We were like the great lovers of the past. That was just woolly thinking, she’d insist: Each separate period of history Was quite different from us...

. Zelda She and Scott were the face of the Jazz Age, Drunk and riotous in post-war Paris, He scribbling out page on potboiling page To fund the wastage of two beaux esprits. When the stock market crashed, in...

. To Find a Waterfall The wild forest is a spiritual place. Disbelief does not last there. Halfway through My span of life, my sunrise-to-set race, I found my trail among the trees anew. Goal for the Spring:...

. The Kakistocracy Does the news give you malneirophrenia, __but you've not been to sleep? Do you galumph all day around the house, __your mind in sorrows deep? Do politicians bring on crapulence, __but...

. Because She Walked In Beauty They sentenced her to over seventy lashes, Because she walked in beauty, hair revealed, Which beauty they demanded be concealed. Courageously, she faced the mullahs’...

. Summer of ‘73  It’s sunset and the sidewalk still feels hot. My legs and feet are bare, they do not mind Mosquitos nearly eating me alive. The neighbor kids are starting to come out. We play a game of...

. Father after "So Far, So Near," by Christopher Pearse Cranch (1813-1892). Father, maker of all spirit, infinite, You can ensphere it. Still, You enter all that's living: raising, guiding, and forgiving. Of...

. . . Maura H. Harrison is a writer, photographer, and fiber artist from Fredericksburg, VA. She is currently an MFA candidate in Creative Writing at the University of St. Thomas, Houston.  Her works...