By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … The flapping, fluttering pages went wild in the wind / And poetry sometimes should go wild, blow wild / To shake those gently slumbering words awake / Provoking peaceful musings into a storm
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … In my boyhood, to the Robin Hood oak / I tip-toed in those hot summer afternoons / With my three sharp arrows and my little bow / Craftily eluding the sheriff’s men
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall .. Dragons! They seem to land among us daily / Blotting out all happiness, all innocent joys / In appearance and demeanor ugly and scaly, / Suppressing silence through foul foolish noise
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … A ballerina was arrested for high treason
/ And no wonder – dance is a beautiful thing / Whether the thunderous tread of a country line / Or the ethereal flights of Russian ballet / Dance is a joy, and so must be suppressed
By Joshua David Ling … The funeral was hard, the eulogy brief. / Cyrus fought back tears and heart-wrenching grief. / She said she’d find the wretched machine and its creator. / And none would be able to hide from The Great Vindicator.
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Fronting for decaying videotapes / And clocks that will never again chime the time / Through tinny mechanical syncopation / A drum set reposes without percussion
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … The dragons are a polite and ancient race / And very conscious of their dignity / It would not do to neglect their seasons and feasts / Lest they neglect to visit you this year
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Names have not been restored, as Aslan says / Some are pleased to call this Ground-Hog Day / Although there are no ground hogs here / But the Presentation is everywhere and forever
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … To deny Israel is to curse ourselves / For we are inheritors of the Covenant / That He should be our God, and we His people / He creates us, He calls us – this is so
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … The frost was still upon the windowsill / As an hour passed for me and Mary’s dogs / Their adventures in the woods, their lonely times / Their happy glances into their human’s eyes
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Connie-the-Haircut-Queen sells us pecans / Every Christmas, good Methodist pecans / A fundraiser sponsored by the women’s club / To be baked into cookies and pies for Christmas Day
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … A birthday is not the beginning of something new / But rather part of a continuing story / From its Prologue and its Chapter One / Through the dark leaves of Mirkwood and beyond
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … I allowed the time, the year, the day to slip / And so I can only imagine a card for you / A Russian Christmas card in paper and paints / Of Christmas scenes from a happy golden time….
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … Not minding my own business I urged a tree / Yes, their children are gone / Yes, their children are grown / But the Christ-Child / is here
By Joshua David Ling … The rearing of William Avery was the best that it could be. / From the age of three he learned to sing in four part harmony. / At five, he learned to fence and soon he learned to read and write. / But the Bible was his one true joy in morning and at night.
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” … My friend prays at the Stable each Christmas Eve / In statio at St. Michael’s, waiting for the Light / (But indolent half-pagan that I am / I want an early bed on any night)
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … A river flows out into all that is / And with it your music across the universe / To sing the happy beginnings of all things / To celebrate the holiness of being
By Amanda Pizzolatto … It began with a prophecy uttered long ago / Bringing hope to a people that fell from grace / That the Son of God would come to Earth / And not only show us His heavenly Face / But also offer Himself up for our sins / So the Heavenly gates would open to the human race
By Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall … We leave the comfort of a little fire / And repair to the kitchen for a morning repast / Of bacon crisp, of toast from home-baked bread / And omelettes more golden than the morning sun