Mag Mawhinney ~
Cobble Hill, Vancouver Island, B.C.
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Sanctuary
Mountains stand like sentinels,
wearing green and purple hues
and in the distance they appear
in shades of faded blues.
Tall shadows lie in crevices
still clutching winter snow
and mountain goats skillfully climb
a rocky, high plateau.
Deadfalls cling to grassy slopes
where alpine flowers intertwine,
while breezes, pure and crisp,
whistles faintly through the pines.
An icy lake drains overflow
to a winding river bed
and a golden eagle seeks his prey
as he circles overhead.
Hoofprints from a pack horse,
led by hardy mountaineers,
criss-cross narrow backtrails
of migrant elk and deer.
A grizzly makes his presence known,
laying scat upon the ground
and like a phantom of the forest,
disappears without a sound.
There's a sacred spot upon a ridge
where people often trod
to fill their eyes with wonder
and communicate with God.
The power and serenity
of this truly awesome place
are felt by all the creatures
who share in His embrace.
�2007, Mag Mawhinney
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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The Table
It's place is in the kitchen
behind the dining wall;
it holds coffee cups and biscuits
when plain folks come to call.
It creaks under elbows
on a leaf that just won't fit;
it has lots of marks and stains
but it shines a little bit.
It hears about friends and family
and whatever else that's new;
it feels the touch of potted plants
and a playing card or two.
So there it stands on wobbly legs,
a hand-made piece of art;
I thought about replacing it
but I just don't have the heart.
�2007, Mag Mawhinney
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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The Chariot Race
Feet widespread
I braced myself
on the wooden platform
of the stone boat
and gripped the rim
of the water barrel
two huge horses, tails swishing
pulled the crudely-carved runners--
bouncing over rough earth
crunching through pebbles and roots
jerking around bushes and stumps
I laughed, mocking imaginary rivals
their chariots were far behind
in my dust
suddenly, the teamster pulled the lines
hollered "whoa"
I leaned on my back foot
as the stone boat grinded to a halt
the race was over
and victory was mine!
�2007, Mag Mawhinney
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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Horse Power
The roar of the chainsaw
cut the stillness of the dawn;
the fir tree groaned and cracked
and shook the ground it fell upon.
As it lay there in the dirt
beside its jagged butt,
the swamper trimmed the limbs off
and the bucker made his cuts.
The teamster hitched the riggin',
tapped the lines upon the rumps
of the husky team of horses,
draggin' logs between the stumps.
Heavy hooves gripped the earth,
muscles strained for the pull--
haulin' log after log
til the old, Ford truck was full.
At dusk, the woods grew silent,
at the mill site, all was still,
as the sweat-stained, weary horses
clomped homeward down the hill.
�2007, Mag Mawhinney
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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The Cowboy And The Butterfly
(A Dance)
He soared around the dance floor
just like Peter Pan in flight,
supported by two frisky gals
who pulled him left and right.
The rhythm of the slower beat
he had no need to fear,
but when the music quickened,
he almost shed a tear.
His knees bent low for take off
as they stretched his arms out flat,
then twisted them like a pretzel,
whippin' off his cowboy hat.
Like prairie gophers high on 'speed',
they whirled him past the bar
and his neck rag shifted sideways
like a western movie star.
The momentum pushed him forward
but the ladies yanked him back
then his boots just sorta pawed the air,
tryin' to grab some slack.
His lips curled in a frozen grin
as he fought to take control,
but the ladies nearly butted heads
when he tried a dosey-doe.
His eyes cried out for mercy
as he searched for an open door,
but they held him in a vice-like grip
and twirled him 'round once more.
As I watched him from the sidelines,
it gave me cause to think--
those ladies and the butterfly
could drive a man to drink.
�2007, Mag Mawhinney
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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