by Daniel J. Travanti | Sep 14, 2021 | Poetry and Prose
When Oliver raised his paws to beg,My heart gave in to the world.There was no chance I could renege;Resistance was unfurled. Northwest by south he came to meAnd crept into our livesBut not until he climbed a treeAnd a plan he could contrive A way to join two snarling...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Nov 11, 1993 | Poetry and Prose
My cat likes citrus, my niece says Try yours, start with a nectarine or an orange Your dog likes almonds, I know And popcorn gets her going These delights are tasty incongruities That prove the rule of taste For animals and people The gusto’s in the giving The juicy,...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Nov 3, 1993 | Poetry and Prose
I think of January as a place I get to each year, and I turn A corner there Into the next place, which is in a different time, and I feel I’m moving along Afraid to be there, sometimes, but wanting to get on with it With relief That the land of time behind me can be...
by Daniel J. Travanti | May 21, 1976 | Poetry and Prose
A Description Across the way the park is gay, betimes Especially when the strolling players come. They play their parts using rolling carts, upon Them some, behind them others, striding forth. When fifth in line, some fret and pine and rave To speed on through, and no...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Apr 21, 1976 | Poetry and Prose
“The late narcissus, and the winding trail Of Bear’s-foot, myrtles green, and ivy pale. (Dryden) Nec sera comantem Narcissum, aut flexi tacuissem vimen Acanthi, Pallentesque...
