M.J. McGuire Poems

I remember the green lawn,
flecked with clumps of clover,
California in the summer,
...

Purple feels like a sigh
And smells like a baguette.
Purple tastes like a pie
Served by a string quartette.
...

In an act of sinister and celestial Judo
They’ve recently reduced the size of Pluto.
It’s no longer on the planet list
-Nor are the moons within its midst.
...

Build me, oh Craftsman, a vessel frail,
Meeker that the ocean's sway.
Carve me a sea-worthless ship to sail
Across this restless bay.
...

He loves
to kick the ball
on lazy afternoons
or prance upon his little toes
...

The sign on her aging body,
An emblem or a stain?
The keys to the chosen kingdom
Or the dreaded mark of Cain?
...

With every thought, I do enchant
The helpless readers (now paralyzed) .
My words, the subtle intoxicant
That leaves them mesmerized.
...

Sweet dove, white songbird,
Meet me in the jungle
Of the dark ethereal night.
Come to me...before I see
...

I'd choose Ogden Nash
Or Edgar Guest,
Or Emily Dickenson
...