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Small Doses


Wanderer, painter, or potter—which role is the best for me?
A clay pot follows the end of a straw into the roiling sea.
All who are guilty cause chaos; things without names cannot be;
Mercy comes in small doses to sinners who sin without glee:
Number them, mercy’s particles, number them One, Two, and Three!
From darkness create something of light and savor the mystery.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #232
 
More Poetry Pantry #494 at Poets United

Pains and Pleasures

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Each breath-of-a-poem begins with a line taken from The Surrender Tree by Margarita Engle.
 


~~ 1 ~~
 
shaded by mangos
two old men going for broke
telling more tall tales
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
fragrant white flowers—
a glint of midday sunlight
sharpening their scent
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
hands of the women
lifted in ecstatic praise
to the rising sun
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
deep in the forest
where mossy old trees sway—
a whiff of danger
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
the ears of a horse
disappearing at sundown—
midwinter madness
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
a hat on a stick—
one look and ravenous crows
flee to the next field
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
on hidden beaches
the fierce and oppressive hush
of desolation
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
the darting of bats
bears witness to succulent
insects in the air
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
protected by words
that keep every woe at bay—
two praying women
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
chocolate and coffee—
our guilty Sunday pleasures
an hour before Mass

 
Poems © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #43