A Journal of High Culture
Latest from the New Lyre
Clayre by Kevin Roberts
Shades that deck the dusky sky,That changes hueWith every breeze that billows by,Change less than you.Its colors ever-changing;Its tides so vastly ranging,And still they change far less than Clayre should do. It’s me alone she loves by night,But then by day,When lovers lure her supple sight,She’s borne away.Her straying glance can gash apartThe chambers ofContinue Reading
Daniel by Roland Hughes
She had been carefulnot to allow polishto seep through the cracked glass.A young man;difficult to judge his agethrough the blur of camera shake.A moment of laughter,taken from the hip with a box-brownie.Out of place amongst studio posesof aunts, unclesand The Reverend J Lewis.I, unaware of her thoughts,sip tea from a china cup.I had known herContinue Reading
Pan by Michael R. Burch
… Among the shadows of the groaning elms,amid the darkening oaks, we fled ourselves … … Once there were paths that led to coraclesthat clung to piers like loosening barnacles … … where we cannot return, because we lostthe pebbles and the playthings, and the moss … … hangs weeping gently downward, maidens’ hairwho neverContinue Reading
My Canary by Daniel Leach
I wake to hear the mockingbird’s sweet song,That floats through morning’s fresh, green, dappled light,Like all that for which mortal creatures longAnd keep a lonely vigil through the night—He sings so joyous, and so hopefully,But not like my canary sang to me. The mourning dove coos softly in the eve,When shadows hide her from allContinue Reading
Magnolia by Adam Sedia
The south wind’s newfound breath,The spring sun’s waxing ray,Draw from your outward deathAn opulent array. Before one fleck of greenHas clothed your naked frame,The life that coursed unseenBursts from your bones, aflame: Lush orbs of rose and creamUnfurl like lotus blooms,Luxuriant, and streamSoft, sensuous perfumes. Not holding back your joyPent up one moment more,With fullContinue Reading
Dacha by John Martin
“There lives the dearest freshness deep down things…“ And there are graceful girls, in fragrant meadows,beneath the towering shadows of the trees,collating flowers, to give to one who waitsabsurdly, sulkily, to hear their prattle…Though, more, to see their silly smiles light upone tiny room with all of nature’s ways,the scent of grass still on them,Continue Reading
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