Blog Archives

The Summer of Braids


This is the summer of braids and bare feet;
We manage somehow to survive the heat.
 
Maybe some shifts in the shimmering line
Assure us we’re well, and all will be fine.
 
Maybe it’s magic, and maybe it’s not,
But suddenly things don’t seem quite so hot.
 
We look in the mirror, knowing we must,
And find we have enough faith to trust
 
That whatever comes again we can face
As long as our fingers reach out for grace.

 
 
Poem © 2020 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #279
 
More Writers’ Pantry #33 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Vases Made of Mud


Vases made of mud must pass
Quickly through the looking-glass;
They are bouncing with the strain.
The white pitcher groans again
In a rhythm dark and deep
Of a work that will not keep
Till your dallying is done.
See, bright smears of morning sun
Lie heavy on the table!
Sing of them, if you’re able,
Though your tongue may clang like brass—
Do not let this moment pass!

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #240
 
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #4 at Poets United
 

Angel

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A winding path, Yuma Conservation Garden, Yuma, Arizona

 
 

A father bends
to help his little girl
who has skinned her knee
while running.
Somehow her legs gave way
and she stumbled in the gravel
at the sidewalk’s end.
He kisses the wound
again and again, murmuring,
“It’s all right, angel, it’s all right.”
Smiling back at him
through tears, she says,
“Thank you, Daddy.
You’re an angel too.”
Then the big angel spreads his wings
and carries his little angel home.

 

Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More SkyWatch Friday
   
More Sunday’s Whirligig #116
   
More Poetry Pantry #358 at Poets United

Tattered Tales

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~~ 1 ~~
 
discarded boxes
sheltering homeless people
down by the river
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
journey into night—
your heart at the beginning
fluttering wildly
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
In a perfect world
there would be no mosquitoes,
neither rats nor lice.
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
an autumn morning—
walking a misty pathway
wet leaves underfoot
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
Everything depends
on rain, a red wheelbarrow
and some white chickens.
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
a long journey to
nowhere in particular
and then back again
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
Beyond the back fence
a world I have never seen
is waiting for me.
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
a short siesta
in the silence of her room—
insomniac’s dream
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
coffee for the guests
pouring again and again
until the last drop
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
rainy afternoon—
finding a place of refuge
in the library
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
finding a table
where we can talk till midnight
nursing our whisky
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
summer afternoon
the head of one sunflower
drooping toward the earth

 
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #259
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #14