Life With Horace

poetry & essays

Leave a comment

Venus waiting

From my pillow, just awake
I saw the eastern sky,
spread clear and pale behind
still leafless trees,
hung with a glowing light
among their limbs.

I first thought to deny
this star so close to sunrise,
then felt its beacon’s pull,
guiding me to daylight
from the darkness of a dream
so gladly left.

the first view of the day ahead is often evocative for me. This morning Venus was hanging in the trees, as though waiting for me to wake up. She gradually faded as the sun drew nearer and my dark dream receded.

Leave a comment


this morning I wake up to rain
with tear-dense clouded skies,
and feel as though I’ve slept in vain

not sleepy, no, just heavy eyes
a heart that lightens more each moment,
slowly I begin to move, first thoughts like sighs

today, a gift, is mine, sufficient,
hoping for some joy, I know its feel
certain that I’m not omniscient

but richer both in spirit and in will

15th day poetry prompt, a terza rima. I am not comfortable with rhyme, but getting there.

Leave a comment

the raid

we think she ambled up our hill
and grabbed the seed bin
left outside our door
then took her prize down to
the stream-cut woods
behind the house, to feast.
our feeders are aswarm again,
the returning snowbirds and
winter stalwarts busy feeding,
none of whom would care she came
unless denied their food, but
the squirrels and I are glad
that she was choosy in her way.
so, do you think if I asked nicely,
she would return my scoop?

Leave a comment

fermenting love

shall we raise love’s goblet now,
so soon, to drink raw wine
this vintage newly casked,
or should we free
our senses to absorb
time’s sun and water,
ripening our feelings gently
matching nature’s earthy rhythm,
gathered in at peak and pressed,
their bursting essence flowing into
stout oak cradles to ferment
and morph to richness
on the tongue and in the heart,
is this not worth the wait?

note: this is an Anacreontic, a poem about love and wine. done with no set meter or rhythm. Today’s prompt on the site.

poem and photograph © 2014 KH Rantilla. all rights reserved.

Leave a comment

early moments

am I welcome here,
where imagination soars
in arcs so wholly random,
long and winding streamers,
wafting into ether pillows,
a mind so newly woken,
my place of endless magic?

wanting some assurance,
I stop rambling once again
waiting, silent, hopeful
hearing peace and reason,
always present if I listen,
answer aye, so lovingly,
wholehearted in assent

my morning daydreaming, as I like to think of it, is something that I cherish, as it was the only time, until recently, that I could release my mind to wander where it wanted. I wrote this poem using the ‘beau present’ form, requiring all words in the poem to begin with a letter contained in a name, any name. William Shakespeare popped into my head, so I went with him.

Leave a comment


joy has come and gone
felt intensely in the moment
welcomed, for whatever
time it gives us, as if
there is no choice
but to grant its freedom

the will creates
by dint of effort
and intense intent,
but the transcendents
touch us only when
we open to their message
and are resigned
to their release

is there surety of return
in our acceptance?
the way to joy or happiness
wearing smooth or easy?
perhaps our souls
become elastic, porous,
bending in the wind
of our emotions,
ready to receive.


poem © 2014 KH Rantilla. all rights reserved.

Leave a comment

the sixth

bright eyes and loving spirit
found again, oh so stubborn
in her quest for peace
despite life’s quakes

we see her unafraid,
bold both in laughter
and in loving touch,
this gift of light

our admiration swells
the more for knowing
what she gladly paid as dues
in searching for the truth


poem © 2014 KH Rantilla. all rights reserved.

Leave a comment

joy renewed

we are ready, we think,
for tomorrow, making music
shared among ourselves,
for strangers, and those
who populate our lives.

we have but to erase
details, orts left of grander
chores, now simple ticks.
as we began, rich notes
brought tears of joy
burst out of souls and eyes.

but tied to knowledge,
certainty arrived as well,
so flat in effect that
to be on stage
seemed almost afterthought.

tonight will tick away,
and tomorrow we will gather,
drinking swiftly, deeply from
Cecilia’s well, knowing
blessed energy will flow
in us with the first downbeat.

poem copyright 2014 KH Rantilla. all rights reserved.