New Poetry Book from Atlas Trustee Walter Donway

In a new book of poetry, Atlas Society trustee Walter Donway seeks to revive the “enduring traditions and popular values” of that genre such as meter, rhyme, storytelling, and drama.  

Touched By Its Rays contains almost 40 poems, including two long narratives, “Empire of Earth” and “A Sense of Life,” and a verse play, Naked.  There are two poems about Ayn Rand: “An Ayn Rand Centennial” and “Atlas Shrugged: The Fiftieth Anniversary.”

David Kelley, founder of The Atlas Society, commented on Touched By Its Rays:

“Walter’s poems cover an astonishing range of subject matter, from love to politics, from parenthood to Hurricane Katrina. There are ballads of great deeds, reflections on moments of experience, wry observations on manners and mores. I have my favorites, you will have yours. What the poems have in common is a distinctive blend of thought, feeling, and poetic skill, revealing how the discipline of meter and rhyme is made to serve a wonderfully free and creative imagination.”

Although he often writes about complex ideas and feelings, with resonant symbols and allusions, his style is never obscure. These are poems to read aloud and enjoy, to share, and to remember for their lyrical beauty and song.

Readers may preview Walter's work at a Web site, http://www.touchedbyitsrays.com/ . By purchasing this book now, at www.objectivismstore.com, you will save 20 percent and make a contribution to the work of the Atlas Society; Walter is generously donating all revenue from sales of the book to the Atlas Society.

(Walter Donway)

To whet your appetite, here is one of Walter’s powerful poems:

Above Tiananmen Square

At first, we wonder why the square

Appears deserted, knowing that scores

Or more had fought and fallen there,

And guess the camera has not shown

The panicked faces glancing back

To where one man now stands alone.

The crowd may clamor with voices

Of warning; but perhaps for him

The moment passed for making choices.

He stands like one arrayed in ranks

To blunt the insensate lunge

Of those preposterous tanks.

Seeing but thin shoulders, askew

With his incongruous bundles,

Who can tell us if he knew

That great deeds irritate our age,

Which inters them in pearls of glory

To spare us inconvenient rage?