Marigolds

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Robert J. Moody Demonstration Garden, Yuma, Arizona
 


We biked into the garden,
Where marigolds did bloom.
We thought we’d have a picnic
In this fine outdoor room.
 
We spread a checkered blanket,
Near where we laid our bikes;
We nibbled cheese, sipped some wine,
And listened to the shrikes.

 
Text and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Macro Monday 2
 
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Bicycles”
   

Blue Monday: Open by Chance

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Sign outside a shop that sells an assortment of old things (often called antiques) in Ajo, Arizona
  


“Open by chance,” the blue signboard says,
Maybe at seven or nine.
Or maybe not till the sun goes down—
Whenever, that’ll be fine.
  
You never know what you’ll find at Ray’s—
It might be trash or treasure;
So come to Ray’s as much as you can,
Then some more for good measure.

 
Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
 

It is much too cold today

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A worker wields a hammer in this detail from a mural, Prescott Public Library, Prescott, Arizona

 
 

It is much too cold today
to picnic with the ancestors.
Even the finches agree,
and they chase us away
from our customary spot
among the headstones.
We decide to visit
the little museum
by the bus station,
where two paintings,
balanced
carefully
side by side,
hang on one wall.
The first
depicts a carpenter
pounding nails
into a baby’s coffin,
while his scrawny apprentice
daubs paint on it.
In the second, a more
hopeful scene,
a brittle old man
smiles for the camera.
After all,
what does he have to lose?

 

Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Macro Monday 2
   
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More Poetry Pantry #353 at Poets United

Destruction

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The remains of an old farm wagon, Yuma Conservation Garden, Yuma, Arizona
 


All things are prone to destruction.

 
 
Text and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
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Desolate

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Yuma Conservation Garden, Yuma, Arizona
 


Desolate places—
something akin to wisdom
lingers in the stones.

 
Haiku and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More SkyWatch Friday
  
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon

Does she know?

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A wedding at Ex-Convento de Guadalupe, Guadalupe, Zacatecas, México
 


Does she know, the happy bride,
That sorrow comes her way?
Does she know her firstborn son
Will sometimes go astray?
 
Nestled safe within her womb
The child begins to grow;
But of pangs that are to come
How little does she know!

 
Poem © 2017 and photo © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More SkyWatch Friday
 
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Childbirth”

I hold her close

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Mother and child out for an early morning stroll, San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, México
 

I hold her close, this daughter of mine,
I hold her close to my heart.
Lest something evil tear her away,
Or even tear her apart.
 
The pangs I endured when she was born
Were nothing to me, for love
Hopes and endures and believes all things,
Empowered by God above.

 
Poem © 2017 and photo © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Childbirth”

Prayer for My Daughter

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A wall hanging depicting an indigenous mother and her daughter, Fábrica La Aurora, San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, México
 


The day of her birth was six years ago—
How quickly my daughter has grown!
The fruit of my womb is graceful and fair—
I’m happy to call her my own!
 
I pray for this child, the fruit of my womb,
I pray for her both night and day;
I ask that the gods will grant her the strength
To follow a right and true way.

 
Poem © 2017 and photo © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
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More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Childbirth”

Blue Monday: Courthouse Lawn

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A man watches passersby from his perch on the courthouse lawn, Prescott, Arizona
  


Sitting on the courthouse lawn
Sunday afternoon,
Hoping that my love will come,
Hoping she’ll come soon.
  
Sitting on the courthouse lawn,
Counting passersby;
Here she comes, my lovely one—
Can you hear me sigh?

 
Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
 

I have come to gaze

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The remains of an old house near the shores of Willow Lake, Prescott, Arizona
 
 

I have come to gaze
on the clover and milkweed.
They are thick this month;
great drifts of leaves and stems
flare up
around the foundation
of the old farmhouse,
where something tiny
glitters on a stone.
The midday sun
is hot enough
to parch or melt
the thing that glitters,
and if it perishes,
who will keen for it?

 

Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
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