Nothing Common

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!

/

© 2021 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #341
 
More Writers’ Pantry #93 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

The middle child

Section of a mural in San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, México

 
 

The middle child,
feeling lost and upset,
goes for treatment
one day a week.
In the waiting room,
her older brother
chants nursery rhymes
and tells stories
in a vain attempt
to comfort her.
“Wait till you see the lunches
they serve at school next week,”
he says.
“Seven kinds of ice cream!”
But the disconsolate middle child
cares nothing for ice cream lunches.
All she wants is to rise up
out of her wheelchair
and walk.

 

Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
   
More Sunday’s Whirligig #117
   
More Poetry Pantry #359 at Poets United