HD 2020 - Issue 17

Inside this issue, are peaceful poems of Alexis Ogunmokum, Bruce Levine, Charlene Langfur, Christie B. Cochrell, Dane Fogdall, Gaiyle J. Connolly, and Jacques Rey Charlier.

Inside this issue, are peaceful poems of Alexis Ogunmokum, Bruce Levine, Charlene Langfur, Christie B. Cochrell, Dane Fogdall, Gaiyle J. Connolly, and Jacques Rey Charlier.


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Halcyon Days - 2020 || Issue 17 | 1

Halcyon Days—Issue 17

Founder, Monique Berry | Hamilton On Canada


Alexis Okunmokun

13 Paper Lanterns

Bruce Levine

4 Another Day Closer to Spring

5 A Glimpse of Spring

10 Spring

Charlene Langfur

8 Meandering

11 My Life Takes to the Poems

12 Daily Transformations

Christie Cochrell

9 The Blessing of the Animals

16 The Seine at Vernonnet

Dane Fogdall

15 Sometime

Gaiyle Connolly

7 Spring Haiku

18 What Do Daisies Know?

Jacques Rey Charlier

10 Look At Us, Love

Alexis Okunmokun

Pg 13

Charlene Langfur

Pg 8, 11, 12

Gaiyle Connelly

Pg 7, 18

Bruce Levine

Pg 4, 5, 10

Christie Cochrell

Pg 9, 16

Jacques Rey Charlier

Pg 17

Cover & inside | marinavorona—stock.adobe.com

Halcyon Days Magazine

ISSN: 2291-0255

Frequency: Quarterly

Publisher | Designer: Monique Berry

Contact Info


Twitter: @1websurfer


Special Notices

Halcyon Days has one time rights.

See website for subscription details.

No photocopies allowed.

Halcyon Days - 2020 | Issue 17 | 2

About the Contributors

Halcyon Days—Issue 17

Jacques Rey Charlier, writer, poet, artist. His works written in English and French, published in the U.S. and

Europe. At present, theater productions are broadcast on Radio France.

Bruce Levine, a 2019 Pushcart Prize Poetry Nominee, has spent his life as a

writer of fiction and poetry and as a music and theatre professional. Over three

hundred of his works are published in over twenty-five on-line journals including

Ariel Chart, Friday Flash Fiction, Literary Yard; over thirty print books including

Poetry Quarterly, Haiku Journal, Dual Coast Magazine, Tipton Poetry Journal, and

his shows have been produced in New York and around the country. Six eBooks

are available from Amazon.com. His work is dedicated to the loving memory of

his late wife, Lydia Franklin. A native Manhattanite, Bruce lives in New York with

his dog, Daisy. Visit him at www.brucelevine.com

Charlene Langfur is an organic

gardener, a rescued dog

advocate, and a Syracruse

University Graduate Writing

Fellowship holder. Her recent

publications include a series of

poems in Tiger Moth, Hawk &

Handsaw, Gyroscope and

forthcoming a series of poems in

Weber-the Contemporary West

and Emrys.

Christie Cochrell's poetry has been

published by Gravel, New Mexico

Review, Figroot Press, Red Bird

Chapbooks, and Birdland Journal,

among others. Chosen as New Mexico

Young Poet of the Year while growing

up in Santa Fe, she now lives and writes

by the ocean in Santa Cruz,

California. She loves the play of light,

the journeyings of time, things

ephemeral and ancient.

Dane Fogdall is a writer and podcaster working in Boulder, Colorado. When he

isn't working on his current projects he can be found with is partner and their two

dogs. If you'd like to follow his work you can find him @diceologypod on twitter.

Gaiyle J. Connolly, a poet and artist from Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, has

numerous publications to her credit, some of them prize-winning. They appear in

local and international periodicals and journals. Her collection of poetry, Lifelines,

which she also illustrated, was published in 2015. Her background of several

ethnicities, love of art, and travel and devotion to social justice are reflected in her

work. Her readership includes Canada, the United States, Mexico and India. She is

Past President of the Tower Poetry Society in Hamilton and has been active in

poetry groups in Mexico. She is working on her second book of poetry for which

once again she will provide illustrations. As a change of pace, she is trying her

hand at short story writing inspired by her childhood years spent in rural Quebec.

Jacques Rey Charlier is a writer, poet, and

artist. His works are written in English and

French, and published in the US and

Europe. At present, theater productions are

broadcast on Radio France.

Ms. O was born in

Bloomington-Normal, IL.

She enjoys writing stories

and reading books. She

currently works at Hy-Vee.

Halcyon Days - 2020 || Issue 17 | 3

Another Day Closer To Spring

By Bruce Levine

Another day closer to spring

The sun just a little bit brighter

The air just a little bit warmer

Filled with the promise of spring

Day trips to nowhere

Just to ride the moment

Holding hands in silence

Exploring sights unknown

Empty beaches beckon

As timeless as tomorrow

Forever holding the entry

To paths and lanes beyond

Seaport towns and cities

Golden crescent mountains

Open arms resounding

With hope each day can bring

Another day closer to springtime

Powerful moments outnumber

Joyously filling the daylight

Another day closer to spring


Halcyon Days - 2020 | Issue 17 | | 4

A Glimpse of Spring

By Bruce Levine

The morning sun

Pierces the eastern window

Harkening the spring

Dispelling the cold of winter

On the coldest day of the year

The sun brings hope of warmth

The winter solstice only weeks past

And New Year’s resolutions

Made and being forgotten

Amidst the lengthening hours

Of the rebirth

Time holds its tread

Against the stammering

Force of nature’s winter chill

Yet the warmth of spring

Felt on the back of the neck

As tears trickle down the cheeks

A mix of morning glare and winter cold

Holding fast to the calendar

Snow in the forecast

Punctuates the day

Determined to claim its place

In the seasonal order

The lassitude of summer

Long forgotten

Amid the glories of fall

Yielding to the

Shortening of the days

And the depth of winter

Another season

In the new year

Another chance of

New beginnings

The rites of spring

Now stirring the primordial stew

Bringing with them

A glimpse of spring


Halcyon Days - 2020 || Issue 17 17 | | 55

Halcyon Days - 2020 Issue 17 | Halcyon Days 2020 | Issue 17 6

| 6

Spring Haiku

by Gaiyle J/ Connolly

I was feeling old.

Suddenly years disappeared;

you brough me roses.

Waiting to see you

brings on the same excitement

a when flowers bloom.


Halcyon Days - 2020 Issue 17 | 7

Halcyon Days - 2020 || Issue 17 | 7


by Charlene Langfur

Today all of what’s around is seeds and scraps and petals

picked up along the way, ideas about love opening up again

bigger than the giant fan palms, where the mountain

edges touch the sky near where I live,

the fat white clouds hanging over it in the blue sky

where the full moon rises at night and the sun

lights up what we know of where we are

and seeds are everywhere on the sand and scrub grass

when the cold settles into the desert at night.

Today I know the love stays inside me now

and carries forward in time, the same as any

abundance no matter how little or rare,

my dog leaping in the wild grass, unflappable,

my friend smiling after her cancer treatments,

her bald head bobbing in the sun. I think today

getting older is only the other side of something else,

everything redeemed as always, dreams unobscured,

and the flowers, you can see for yourself, petals

absolutely luminous


Halcyon Days - 2020 Issue 17 | 8

Halcyon Days - 2020 | Issue 17 |

The Blessing of the Animals

By Christie Cochrell

After a Sunday breakfast of grilled trout and

cold white wine in a Virginia tavern

somewhere off the road between the two old mills,

first Aldie Mill before Champe Ford and then

an 18 th -century gristmill on a slow green river,

I read the notice posted on the tavern door

(on the way in noticing nothing but the fish,

Chesapeake rainbow trout, handwritten

on the chalkboard on the wooden porch).

October 5, Saint Francis of Assisi Day

it says, at the James River Episcopal Church—

today that is, already nearly two o’clock,

across the quiet side road from the tavern

in this block of the meandering country road

where I’ve happened to stop (too taken by

the dappled light and poetry of signs in this

Virginia horse country to pull off any sooner)—

today, here, now, the blessing of the animals.

And I see people coming up the path outside

the ruddy brick church in the reverential sunlight,

bringing their spaniels, their dim-sighted

old Airedale terriers; one child and her father

carrying between them a brown rabbit in a cage.

Magic is here, in James River, I understand,

is nothing more or less than being open to

the light through unfamiliar Eastern trees, to

being in the right place when blessings come.


Halcyon Days - 2020 Issue 17 | 9

Halcyon Days - 2020 || Issue 17 | 9


By Bruce Levine

Spring songs appear like ghosts

Hovering over the horizon

Happy memories

Playing in fields of daffodils

Golden rainbows

Mixed with stripes of hyacinth blue

Amber shadows projecting skyward

Against the rays of the rising sun

Time stands still as trees blossom

And fauns scamper among daydreams

Everlasting solitude of rebirth

For the dawning of a new day

A new season

To be remembered through summer

And into fall

As ruminations linger

Filled with the memories of spring


Halcyon Days - 2020 | Issue 17 | | 10

My Life Takes to the Poems

by Charlene Langfur

My life pushes its way into my poems day after day.

Past the fat fan palm trees all around where I am,

luminous at first light, covered in date seeds.

Past the purple flowers I planted to replace

lost loves with what returns here now,

petals in bloom on the porch on a calm day

and then thrown up in the air for luck,

as if luck has more to do with this than I let on,

all the words and the days and the hours fitting together.

My honey colored rescued dog upside down on the couch,

her meditation for exactly what is. And how I am

always walking in the sand and in the wild grass

with her, what lasts with us, what goes on.

For me, days of reading essays for ten hours or more,

hundreds, one by one, how I am openminded and fair.

Work stays with me and then it’s gone like the blue sky

or the black night. Work stays us here and is what

I throw down as a blessing, the same as new life.

Today I’ll write a poem about it like this one, with a new ending

here in the deep desert by morning, the lizards will be up and

ready to go in the sunlight, the rabbits running from out

of the heather for a good breakfast and the cactus flowers

how they have taken my breath away again, opening like little

yellow suns


Halcyon Days - 2020 || Issue 17 | 11

Daily Transformations

By Charlene Langfur

Each day I open to the world around me,

take to the suchness of the palm trees,

tap on the Korean meditation bell,

ease into another day of breakfast and light,

try to make it right whether it is possible to do

or not. All in makes the difference,

pushing away the past and the trouble in it,

holding the dog in my arms for a kiss,

saying compassion prayers for people I love

and those I do not. Later a walk for my well being

out into the desert sand near the mesquite

and the fan palms around the oasis.

Throwing the old petals from the violets

into the air around me in the shyest wind.

Trouble flies up and out with them,

to what comes next after the work and

the struggle, small acts of good will and dreams

exactly where I am, yes, this is enough to stay me,

maybe it does you, waiting for love again as

the full moon rises over the mountains on

a clear night. What returns is where I am.

The act of time, patience, soon I’ll practice

again, plant seeds, do what chores need doing,

living the small this large, all in


Halcyon Days - 2020 Issue 17

Halcyon Halcyon Days Days - 2020 2020 | Issue Issue 17 17 |

| 12



Paper Lanterns

By Alexis Okunmokun

Paper lanterns


At the festival


Halcyon Days - 2020 Issue 17 |

Halcyon Days - 2020 || Issue 17 |




Halcyon Days - 2020 Issue 17 | 14

Halcyon Days - 2020 | Issue 17 | 14


By Dane Fogdall

Sometime today I will close a

curtain just to change

how the light falls.

so it can flow through and

under linen, to dapple skin

with gold and warmth.

That way it can be just

dark enough that I can get

lost, and only see you.


Halcyon Days Days - 2020 - 2020 || Issue 17 | 15

The Seine at Vernonnet

By Christie Cochrell

To get to Giverny

you take the train from Paris,

following the Seine—

pass Argenteuil, and get off

at the station in Vernon.

You can rent bicycles from there,

or walk where all the artists walked,

the friends, Monet and the others,

along the river from one small town

to the next, Vernon to Vernonnet

to Giverny with its famous garden.

I would have loved above all else

to walk to Vernonnet, to see

the Seine where Bonnard painted it

again and again through the trees

from what he called his “caravan,”

in greens and oranges and

moments of that rapturous blue

I could drown in,

sometimes with a little boat.

I wanted to walk the verdant roads

and paths where the reclusive artist

went to market with Marthe,

his wife and constant model,

where he walked their dogs,

the dachsund and black labrador,

and painted incandescent canvases.

But there was Giverny to see,

so we got on the tourist bus.

And what I really wanted

anyway, still more than walking

by the Seine, was to walk

into one of Bonnard’s paintings,

to spend the summer there.

Or better, my whole life—

swimming each morning

in the colors of that other Seine,

coming out dripping with

oranges and blues and greens

then spending the midday hours

at the table in the garden set with

light-filled bottles, plums,

a plate of cherry tart,

which the dogs would be eyeing

almost as longingly as me,

while the artist dawdled

in his studio, touching all of us up.


Halcyon Days - 2020 | Issue 17 | | 16

Look At Us, Love

By Jacques Rey Charlier

Look at us, love!

Each star,

For the sole pleasure

Of our eyes and ears,

Is foreclosing the present

And the future.


Halcyon Days -- 2020 || Issue 17 17 | | 17

What Do Daisies Know

by Gaiyle J. Connolly

What do daisies know?

They must know more than I of beauty secrets

as they stand pristine and lovely in the summer’s heat

while I will in a less than crisp white dress.

They are not altered by age

these yellow and white beauties

captivating, youthful

as I try to camouflage fine lines around my eyes.

“He love me, he loves me not, he loves me…”

As children we thought what daisies told was true

they knew if our young loves would last forever

their predictions rewarding

our youthful faith in love

On this fragrant hill, surrounded by daisies and clover

the summer scents beguile me

and I care little for cost or convention

as I chose to love you with the old forever.

That my love won’t be returned

I scarcely ponder

As I dream, daisy in hand.

I’ve seen it in your eyes

heard it in your voice

felt it in your touch.

“He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me,

He loves me not…”

But then what do daisies know?

Natalia Guseva — stock. Adobe.com

Halcyon Days - 2020 | Issue 17 | | 18


Halcyon Halcyon Days - 2019 Days Issue -- 2020 16 || | Issue 19 17 17 | | 19

Halcyon Days - 2020 | Issue 17 | 20

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