Nothing common in her tweets,
For she’s fortified with sweets!
What she tastes she somehow sees
Always tucked between her knees.
Autumn’s version of her face?
She knows just the perfect place:
In a corner of the zoo
With a peckish kangaroo!
There the campfire stories burn
And odd children come to learn
How to brand themselves with stars
That have slipped between the bars.
If you’ve suffered through this verse,
Don’t forget: It could be worse.
You could be among the dead,
Plunged in darkness, plagued by dread;
But you’re here, you’re having fun—
Keep it up, your life’s not done!
More The Whirligig #341
More Writers’ Pantry #93 at Poets and Storytellers United
Some wild thing roves outside my door. It always comes at twilight. It moves stealthily among the shadows, zigzagging, never in a straight line. It is so swift—like a meteor’s flash or the whirling rings of Saturn—that I barely catch a glimpse of it. But I know it’s there—a constant presence as night comes on. Does it mean to harm me or to help me? I’m not sure, so in order to sleep I check the door locks and chains once more.
The Book of Bad Luck—
why do I keep reading it?
I know how it ends.
Imagine that you can go back in time to when you first loved the sound of rain in the night, or when you first identified the singing of the thrush. I know what you’re thinking: I’ll always be stuck in the here-and-now. But you don’t have to be. Imagine!
In the autumn woods
a tree stump becomes a throne
for an aging queen.
More The Whirligig #289
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
More Writers’ Pantry #43 at Poets and Storytellers United
Face the other way and write, write these words down fast:
Seizes, eases, water, gathers; then, write current last.
Other words than these might do, or possibly, might not.
Thus be ready always, friend, to change your poem’s plot.
In pursuit of poetry, you take what fate doles out.
Welcome every word’s arrival with a joyful shout!
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Sunday’s Whirligig #228
More Poetry Pantry #491 at Poets United
Each tiny poem begins with a phrase taken from “Christmas Mail” by Ted Kooser.
~~ 1 ~~
the plaintive bleating
of a thousand frightened sheep
after shepherds flee
~~ 2 ~~
into the distance
always following the star—
~~ 3 ~~
Wise men, the donkeys
with their sure feet and keen eyes
will guide your camels.
~~ 4 ~~
clopping of camels
how they perform their slow dance
for the manger child
~~ 5 ~~
Who chews and muses
after the right choice of hay?
Mary, do you know?
~~ 6 ~~
shuffle of sandals—
small talk before the manger,
the mother, and child
~~ 7 ~~
deep in the shadows
trembling at the presence
unwashed shepherds sweat
~~ 8 ~~
cup white as a star
no snag in the smooth surface—
she sips her latte
~~ 9 ~~
her Styrofoam cup—
as long as she clutches it,
no need to panic
~~ 10 ~~
perched on the dashboard
to help drivers in distress—
good St. Anthony
~~ 11 ~~
hint of hazelnut
in her vanilla latte—
hoping for a high
~~ 12 ~~
then a touch of myrrh
to burn the tip of her tongue
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #232
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 192