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.
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
Poem of the Month
Where Old Fliers Come to Roost
Oft and softly you have passed through my day
Beside me in summer storms and winter frost.
Loamy spring mornings
And crisp autumn evenings,
You have been my quiet companion.
Through pain and sorrow,
You have been my comfort.
I shower my joy upon you
And sing your story to the wind.
I have carried you across the world,
And painted you into every scene.
The sights and sounds of foreign lands
Are sights and sounds of you.
You see through my eyes
And I through yours.
Come now to the water
As shadows are long,
Hand-in-hand we will walk,
Saying nothing, knowing all,
Where only the heron will note our passing.
Lee Alloway / 2018
Ancient Eagle Press
It is still October, is it not? There is still time to post the October Poem of the Month. The days do grow shorter, and other demands fill the hours. They say that nobody is as busy as a retiree and I must agree, although our time is filled with chores we might not have considered while working for a pay check. Lately I’ve been watching mold grow on an ant’s knees. I’m confident there are few people who are similarly occupied. Watching mold grow does share some characteristics with watching paint dry, but the mold is much slower. Odd, but it gets me outside, up a ladder and contorted to capture just the right image with my camera. Then there is the time spent in image processing, cataloguing and researching the ant and mold. There’s a poem somewhere in all that, which I will share if I ever discover it. Meanwhile, enjoy the October Poem of the Month, Benediction.