THREE POEMS by William J. Margolis
A FACE IN THE FROWNING WORLD
frowning with concealed intent
at frailties -- he would guffaw
at the plight and curse
his shout... he frowns by turns
and hurls himself at hidden
chuckles, while he flicks
old shards of discontent & pity
from his beard like burnt-out,
dried up fireflies and turns
to face the frowning world
with laughter in the flowing sleeve
of his melancholic habit.
VESPERS
I.
In still night before last light down,
when horizon defying flickers
yet play the hillsides
and beside each candle warm, worn faces
tell the stars to little tucked in children,
bliss, and all the bosom softness of the world
and all named things are fast.
II.
bright in the fog and even
when supperlights glow with families,
we warm th enight with laughter
and all flowers securely close their eyes
in love and trust of morning sun.
 William J. Margolis
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3 POEMS by John Chance
EARLY SPRING
Young one, I know a place of dreams
And the light there is always dim
And in that light the phantoms
Of every age speak
In a voice of mist and green.
The yellow hair of young girls
Trail in limpid streams fo blue
That span a dark abyss.
Leaves at the wimdow
Nod to me - I sip the wine
Rippling at my side. An oak
Shattered with age suggests
With a dead and empty hulk
The worth of heros
To a lifeless age.
Young one, let us not long
Linger here at the brink
Of the world - for this is
Not glass not the images
Of a wanton mind - and fire
Turns to rippling streams
The waters of frozen hearts.
Let us hasten to out voice.
WAKING
the green brow of a hill
greets my eye at dawn.
i pull back the curtain
further, filling the room
with sunlight. pigeons
rise from green
and spiral high above the sun
then swarm down fleeting
a flutter of wings in trees.
ONE MOMENT
alighing in clove
the weary yellow fly
turns green
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