Archives

  November 2018 -- Meditation

  October 2018 -- Benediction

  September 2018 -- Passages

  August 2018 -- Feeding the Beast

  July 2018 - One Can Have Knowledge...

  June 2018 -- The Unsinkable Molly Drown

  May 2018 -- Advice to my Grandson

  April 2018 -- Awaiting Idunn

  March 2018 -- Flight

  February 2018 -- Lakesong

  January 2018 -- Schrödinger's Cat

  December 2017 -- Daybreak

  October 2017 -- Night Watch

  September 2017 -- The Princess

  August 2017 - Pelham

  July 2017 --  Siena

  June 2017 -- Loyal, Straight, and True

  May 2017 --  A Thousand Flowers

  April 2017 -- Oboe Rap

  March 2017 - March Madness

  February 2017 -- The Cost of Doing Business

  January 2017 -- Reflection at a Winter Window

  December 2016 -- The Creation

  November 2016 -- Hemolymph Moon

  October 2016 -- Vortex

  September 2016 -- Do You?

  August 2016 -- Sailing
  July 2016 --  Mulberries
  June 2016 -- Off Tucker Point
  May 2016 -- Unforgettable
  April 2016 -- At Night She Cries

December 2018

Ready of not, the Holiday Season is upon us.  We've made it through Thanksgiving, a celebration where memories of family and feast outlast the few extra pounds we are currently carrying.  Now we look forward to Chanukah, St Nicholas Day, Bodhi Day, at least two Feasts (Immaculate Conception and Our Lady of Guadalupe), the Solstice, Tohji-Taisai,  the honoring of Wang-Mu, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Years Eve and a few I've no doubt overlooked.  Choose your favorites, or just go for the gusto and celebrate all of them.  They each have something to teach us about who we are.  


Because December can get complicated, our December Poem of the Month is an uncomplicated reflection on growing old on your own terms, or perhaps just continuing to grow as the years go by, without letting "old" define you.  Enjoy "Grandpa," about nobody in particular.


Where Old Fliers Come to Roost

Ancient Eagle Press

               

                                                   Grandpa

  Grandpa’s hair was grey before it started falling out,
  He once could hear a pin drop, now he can’t hear Grandma shout,
  He should be getting old and fat, but Grandpa just stays slim,
  Cause he sold the television and he’s sweating at the gym.

  He says that he’s retired but that doesn’t mean retarded,
  His working days are over but his fun days have just started,
  He’s dusting off his SCUBA tanks and going for a swim,
  Then he’s biking down the road to his appointment at the gym.

  He has a dozen cameras and some lenses that he lugs
  Around the world to places where he’s photographing bugs,
  He’s happy in the jungle and a swamp would suit him fine,
  Where the critters are abundant and  the stars all brightly shine.

  He’s writing down his memoir and I guess it’s mostly true,
  And writing books for children cause that’s what he likes to do,
  And sometimes he writes poetry that I don’t understand,
  Or writes another song though he no longer has a band.

  My grandpa’s always busy cause he has it in his head,
  More years have passed behind him than the ones he has ahead,
  Too many days forgotten, too many friends are gone,
  So he laces up his shoes and runs another marathon.

  His time is now his own so he’s obliged to always use it
  In ways that make him happy cause time’s worthless once you lose it,
  So while the sun is shining and it’s warm out on the water,

  He’s coming by my house and going fishing with my daughter.

 

   Lee Alloway / 2018
 

Each month Ancient Eagle Press offers a poem appropriate to the season or the mood of our editorial staff.   Poems may be new or drawn from existing AEP editions.

Poem of the Month