A Poetry Garden Archives



May 2004 ~ Mary Sullivan

A passion for rhyme and rhythm inspired Mary Sullivan to not only
write her own gems, but also to create Rhyme Central -- a network
of poetry that leapt the borders of Texas and galloped across the
world wide web. Along with her poetic talents, you'll appreciate
her sense of humor, clever wordplay and homespun wisdom.

Mary's home site



Ring of Authenticity

The earth remains in orbit
while we all hang on and spin,
for everything that goes around
must come around again.

A smile, a friendly gesture,
simple acts of kindness shown --
such things cannot be hoarded,
they are placed with us on loan.

And so it is with hurtful words;
they don't just disappear --
they roam the whole world over
seeking out their sender's ear.

Another time, another life ...
as former selves, we meet
with clouded recognition
when the circle is complete.

Though some retreat in panic,
others face it with a grin,
when everything that goes around
comes back around again.

© Copyright Mary Sullivan




Nostalgic in Advance

Examining a single shoe
(as packrats are inclined to do)
I acted somewhat surreptitiously
and stuffed it in a dresser drawer
lest anyone should ask, "What for?"
and chortle at my eccentricity.

I contemplate my daughter's son
whose foot had filled the other one;
he's snuggled in my lap as if immune
to loss. Perhaps in future days
some stories of his toddler phase
will entertain him for an afternoon.

Eclectic treasures -- things to wear,
a tiny tooth, a lock of hair --
are stored in preparation to ignite
these ever-changing memories
from "Yee-ha horsie!" on my knees
to "Look at this, Gran. Did I do it right?"

Too soon he'll learn to tie his own
shoelaces; pathways unbeknown
to former generations will be braved.
But should it ever cross his mind,
"Do you remember me?" he'll find
an answer in the little things I've saved.

© Copyright Mary Sullivan



Hollowed Ground

(Speechless at the Grand Canyon)

A million years upon its course
the river's flowed relentlessly;
unquestioning, unwavering ...
a lesson in humility.

How vain to think I stand prepared
to view the wonder God has wrought --
this canyon in the making lies
beyond the grasp of finite thought.

To see it stretched from rim to rim,
a speck beneath the firmament,
here gazing on these depths I feel
my smallness to its full extent.

I search my vocal repertoire,
superlatives exhausted now,
as from two lips that drip with awe
escapes a feeble whispered, "Wow."

© Copyright Mary Sullivan





State of the Art

A baby comes with software preinstalled --
first generation code: Life One-Point-One
We don't expect he'll walk before he's crawled.
He's laptop-bundled, pure phenomenon.
Initially, two megs of RAM will do..
No operating system needs more stuff
than it can process, plug 'n' play when new.
A modest modem speed should be enough
to keep him wired. Increasingly, demands
exceed innate resources -- that's the norm.
As Junior's drive capacity expands,
more popup/download options fill the form.

The coping patterns used in infancy
won't last, but Life's upgradable, for free.

© Copyright Mary Sullivan



Grounded

The looking glass reveals a creaseless brow
transposed against her face to disabuse
the notion she is aging. Truth subdues
the vision. Like her hair, her youth somehow
is running down the bathtub drain, and now
her bearing and behavior (like her shoes)
are sensible. "The mirror is a ruse,"
she sighs. "I'm just an old contented cow."

She'd planned on parachuting once, immune
to gravity. (Weak ankles redefined
the plan.) At times she cocks her head, intent
on hearing fragments of an uncaught tune
that blink and fade like fireflies in her mind.
She can't remember how the lyrics went.

© Copyright Mary Sullivan




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