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.

                            Archives

  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

               

                                  Benediction
 
 
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

October 2018

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.