Best Magdalene Poems

Mary Magdalene

One summer eve in Galilee
I stood before my open door;
to me it seemed just one more night--
like all the others gone before.
Someone would come and, passing by,
would hear the tinkling of the bells,
would see the garish harlot's robe
and painted eyes beneath my veil.
Someone, a man like all the rest--
it did not matter much to me--
a nobleman, Samaritan,
a Roman or a Pharisee,
someone would pause and with one glance
strip me again of maiden pride,
and leaving, later, never know
the shame and shattered dreams I hide.
O, he would think me very gay;
he would not see my hollow heart
nor hear me curse him for his pay.
Just then I saw a band of men
approaching down the narrow road;
there should be one among that crowd
aho wants the favors I bestow.
Kind eyes met mine, and with one look,
He saw what others could not see;
He saw the hunger of my soul,
my loneliness and misery.

I only know that since that day
I live to walk along with Him.
His look of love has changed my life;
I need not sell my love again.
Tonight He dines at Simon's house__
all day the dusty paths we roamed;
but, still he waits, unwashed, unkissed;
small courtesies no one has shown.
My love for Him! It rolls and swells
till from His side I cannot stay;
I will wash His feet with tears of love
and with my hair wipe the sand away.

Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson

For Mary Magdalene

FOR MARY MAGDALENE

Between necessity and freedom I was crucified
Perceiving Himself endlessly on the cross
Yet aware, as an onlooker, petrified
My vision that never was, would be His loss.

I mimed too, as they hammered in the nails
Once more assuaging myself  in His deep tears
Once more my heart rallying where my speech fails
To give His lips the vinegar it fears.

Sun eclipsed,  I dallied with the vision of day,
A multi-chromed banner the old enemy was twisting,
Till I could no longer read in stone and clay,
My flower-head lopped, topped to the moment’s listing - 

I shone for Him like a speck in the glory of the sunrise
Waiting for twilight, the beauty of the stars’ surprise.

by Rosemarie Rowley
from IN MEMORY OF HER, Dublin 2008

Mary and Mary Magdalene and the Stone

Did move
Can’t prove. 

So lie
Must try. 

Stone rolled
Male told.

Mary Magdalene the Last Supper

Mary Magdalene. The last supper.

The last day I combed Christ’s hair 
I knew I truly loved him,
It was matted and tangled, I believed there and then that we were not all perfect 
people.
Nobody was. 

I always liked a happy thought,
But I knew his mind could be dark and disagreeable,
His hair was stubborn and coarse
Like a Roman Soldiers mood.

As I pulled down hard to rid the tugs
I was aware of jealous eyes
As Judas Iscariot walked by.

His stony look said it all.

He would cut the Devils hair
If it meant he could kiss Christ’s cheek.

The Love of Mary Magdalene

On canvas was made to shame

For the world to despise her name

Portrayed as a whore 

A dirty Mary nothing more


Hair that wiped Jesus’s feet of oil and tears

Never left his side even at the cross

Who was this woman from Magdala 

Why has the bible tried to exclude her


She soothes a crucified body with aloes and myrrh

Believed while Peter denied three times before cock crowed

The Messiah who was resurrected on the third day

First appeared to this lady of immeasurable faith


Her heart knew the Lord above man’s horrid sins

No love greater than the love of Mary Magdalene

Truth Be Told (Ode To Mary Magdalene)

Your halls glistened in virgin white
Marbled with illusions, chide lies
Feasting fantasies, frosting twilight
Your sharp vigil held in disguise

Marked distain slur bitter tongues
Left the weak sadly convinced.
Stifled the truth from filling the lungs 
Sound words left blurry and minced.

If thou encumbered by weighty approach,
Could Almighty not see peril, danger?
Blinded by love while evil encroached
Ah! Allied beginnings in manger!

Shall these obscure impulses deem fair
Whilst teachings of your past deed
Seek immoral, unethical, answers to prayer,
In the name of prosperous greed?

A Letter To Mary Magdalene

Mary Magdalene 
No one can take away the honour given to you!
You were the first one to see the resurrected Jesus

We know that your past was dark
But you had the privilege of getting into the ARK
The Saviour called you 
He saw what others did not see!
There are too many that want to make you a prostitute
But many forget Jesus calls the destitute

We know you were once joyless 
But holiness came to you and 
You became a slave of righteousness
And was transformed as an example for us!

You were a faithful disciple
You remained longer than any at the Cross and 
You were also the first to see Jesus after His Resurrection!

You have an extraordinary legacy
Blessed is the Lord who showed Great Mercy 
No one can take away the honour given to you!
You were not the wife of Jesus
You were a unique disciple 
Given a privilege that many did not receive!

You are Mary Magdalene
A Woman of Love, Purpose and Destiny

Mark Frank

Copyright 2023

Mary Magdalene

She stood before his silent stare alone
Behind her howled the frantic arms of death
That once subdued her will, besmerged her bone
With the rancid ravaging of their breath.
She felt transparent as their condemning tongue
Shifted the weight of guilt to her for crimes
That senseless passions savaged reeked. She hung
Her eyes upon his face of love, the slimes
Of sin indulgent wage demand his justice
But he ignoring them wrote in the sand,
And she to his mercy bowed, eyes in mist
She touched her Creator's kind, tender hand.
And in the putrid purity of heart she 
Pined to pour him oil and serve his mercy.
                             ii
The years, itinerant moments, fled fast
Along the dusty ways the marked preacher past
And many heard him, and many feared him
Shackled to the lucre vain, future grim
In the mission since eternity set
To ransome all the world through savage death
And one from his audience bait her breath
Her love flowering for him that met
Her condemnation with mercy most kind
And so at Bethany's feast she knelt bare
Feet to touch, devotion unspooled her hair
To mop them, moistened with tears and oil. Find
In history's annals an act more divine:
Mary's love preparing the Christ for his shrine.

For a Woman Like Me, Through the Eyes of Mary Magdalene

A poem from The Last Hours of Christ series                                    
(as seen through the eyes of Mary Magdalene)


I listen in horror to the Apostles’ accounts 
of what happened at Gethsemane,
that night when the soldiers arrested Jesus 
and all the Apostles were forced to flee.

Now we stand on the fringes of the crowd 
and watch this mockery of a trial proceed.
How can they think of condemning this Man
who holds the answer to their every need?

How can it be possible for His ministry of mercy
to simply be ending like this?
And why is it that I keep imagining 
that I hear a nearby serpent’s hiss?

Standing with His mother, I watch His torture,
my heart broken and filled with dread.
I long to run to Him and wipe the blood 
from His precious thorn encircled head.

I shudder with every lash of the whip,
every nail that is hammered into place,
as I witness His agony and suffering, 
as reflected in His eyes and upon His face.

I fall to my knees and gaze up at Him 
as He hangs upon His cross.
I pray for a quick end to His suffering, 
wondering how I can survive His loss.

Father, I know the life I used to live 
was extremely offensive to Thee.
So why is your perfect Son hanging on that cross, 
when it should have been me?

I will never understand what He did for me, 
or why He was willing to sacrifice,
to pay for the many sins of a woman like me. 
Yet He was willing to pay the ultimate price.

Appears To Mary Magdalene

[Father Christ appears to Mary Magdalene
Who does not recognize Him immediately]
Father Christ said to her “Mary”
She turned and said to Him in Hebrew
“Rabboni!” [means teacher]

4182013

Mary Magdalene

Master, teacher, and deliverer is what Jesus was to me
And, thanks to him, never again do I have to feel unclean
Real love and compassion is what I received from him
Yesterday's sorrow has gone, and a new day of happiness has come


My new life is pure as the driven snow because of what he did for me
Anxiety is no longer my daily diet, and guilt haunts me no more
God by his love has both forgiven me and forgotten all my sins
Demons, all seven of them, were cast out of me by Jesus Christ
All my fears, pain and shame, have been exchanged for joy and peace
Life now is meaningful, so filled with poise, power, and purpose
Every day is a very good day, and I'm no longer driven by demons
New life embraces me every morning and throughout the day and night
Ever since he called me "Mary" that Sunday morning, I've never heard a sweeter sound.

04212019PoSoup

Honeymoon of Jesus Ad Mary Magdalene

The Auguries of Mary Magdalene

The Auguries of  Mary Magdalene 
David J Walker

I saw Mary Magdalene 
Sitting on the stone bench 
Near your grave
Was she here for you
Was she there to proclaim 
Your absence 
never looking my way or
saying a single word in
A dream about a victory 
that could save my soul and
Release yours from sad visions

I remember the last time I saw you
Dressed for a journey already departed 
Dressed as if form a black & white
Photograph of you taking a train  
Or climbing the steps to passenger prop plane in the 50s’
Or was it a Greyhound bus in the 40s’ with a 
three-day pass from camp to see your mother

And now after three days 
Mary Magdalene, if you please
Recite the auguries of 
Sunday morning at dawn

Mary Magdalene

Mary Magdalene as we have all heard was not living her life right
Till one day her soul stirred as the Lord Jesus came into her sight
In hearing each Word He would say she herself began to change
And oh how she changed her way, even she found it to be strange

But by the Lord's side she would stay in witnessing His Awesome Power
This Man at any time she could betray instead drawing closer by the hour
This Harlot who knew not even of His Name yet was at the foot of His Cross
As the Lord is greater than all your shame yet His Salvation you just toss 

Not Mary Magdalene as she went to that tomb being so unable to sleep
Seeing it empty she felt such doom and in telling the Apostles, they would steep
Peter and John flew out that door and it would be John who would easily win
But John knowing what was in store had waited for Peter to first enter then go in

But t was only later when Mary would again visit that Our Lord would first appear
Thinking He was the gardener she said in a fit please tell me that His Body is near
And as only her name would He say and in that moment Mary could now see
Oh how Mary had come such a long way, giving so much hope to you and me

Mary Magdalene

The first time I saw her
in the forgotten halls of the East,
the stars whispered her name—
Magdalene.
My soul trembled,
for I knew she was the lost thread
of my eternal garment,
woven not of earth,
but of Andromeda’s fire.

Her eyes remembered.
Her smile healed.
She turned and called me—
Christos, I have been searching for you.

Slow as dawn,
she moved toward me,
and in silence kissed my feet.
A rainbow frequency
rose within my being,
a light that bound us as one—
not two souls,
but a single breath,
a single flame.

I told her,
“I live in the city of twelve men.
You will be the only woman,
the hidden pillar of our ascension.”
She took my hand and whispered,
“Then I shall be your closest ally.”

When we entered the city,
the twelve beheld her
and knew the veil was torn—
she was the missing key.
Through her,
the dark portal opened,
and the Elohim descended in silence,
weaving the birth of a Ninth Avatar,
to awaken humanity’s sleeping codes.

Together we walked,
our shadows braided by eternity.
Everywhere I placed my foot,
she followed with light.
And when the hour of sorrow came,
through her I found crucifixion,
through her I found resurrection.

She is the moon—
I will always be the sun.
And in the union of our fire,
the heavens shall remember us.