Right Way, Easy Way

Sometimes the right way is easy,
And sometimes the easy way’s right;
But how to choose between the two
When there’s only darkness, not light?
It’s easy to say, “Just choose one!”
But what if I make the wrong choice?
That’s why I wish my ears could hear
A sweet supernatural voice,
Saying, “This is the way—stick to it!
Don’t veer to the left or right!
By walking the way I tell you
Your darkness will turn into light.”
But no voice shatters the silence
At morning, at noon, or at night,
So I keep walking and walking—
And hoping the easy way’s right!

 
Poem © 2021 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Weekly Scribblings #75 at Poets and Storytellers United

If Poems…

If poems were written as lists,
Or tattooed on foreheads or wrists,
We’d see them quite well,
But after a spell,
We’d tire of their turns and their twists.

Limerick © 2021 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 

Let Me Go

Things related, things alike—
I will take them on this hike.
 
Remember that my part was chosen;
In that role my life was frozen.
 
Each breath leaves me sorry, dear;
The results are crystal clear.
 
Promise me you will not fast
When my life is past at last.
 
Cover me with Grandma’s quilt;
Over that toss Grandpa’s kilt.
 
Total everything I owe.
Now I’m ready—let me go!
 

Poem © 2021 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #317
 
More Writers’ Pantry #69 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Retreat

The stone hogan, at Hubbell Trading Post, Ganado, Arizona often serves as a retreat for artists.
 

This little retreat’s made of stone,
A great place for being alone
And working on art.
You’re ready to start?
Good! Make sure you turn off your phone!

Photo and limerick © by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 

When I Forgot My Morning Smile

When I forgot my morning smile, the fish reminded me
That every river wants to rush headlong into the sea.
When blackbirds carried messages beyond the barnyard fence,
Five famous people came to see—they paid but seven pence.
If shuffling gets me to my goal, I’ll shuffle day and night,
But barefoot I will have to go—my boots are much too tight!
Remember on the day I die: No wailing is allowed!
Now promise me that buttonholes will decorate my shroud.

 
Poem © 2021 by Magical Mystical Teacher

 
 
More The Whirligig #310
 
More Writers’ Pantry #62 at Poets and Storytellers United