Short Oolong Poems

Fill your cup with a warm brew of questions
then cast it down from the highest peak;
a light shower of oolong rain,
a shared feast for the critters below.



Then make more tea.



Entered into Russel Sivey's
Enlightenment, Hope and Harmony Contest

04 - 21 - 13...

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orange-caramel color
steeps into the lotus mug
flower and the leaves
cherry like candy
lifts from the golden liquid
left hand round the waist, hold hands
with the handle, lip
pressed to the rim, intimate
serendipitous-savor
the flavor of rose
petals and hips, cinnamon
apple, almond and cherry
sipping oolong slow
over lips and tongue, twining
in chimera happiness
might open eyes to bonsai...

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Black coffee for sunny mornings and hangovers,
or with the rich cream of a female ungulate caregiver.
A quick Danish for the tardy to arrive,
crispy bacon for first responders.
Duck fat in the skillet fry’s anything better -
let’s it slide off a plate.
Wipe tongues with Oolong,
Be sure to keep a store of nuts and berries.
Chocolates and red wine restores blasé taste buds.
Keep writing love menus....

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Tomorrow's Forecast




                    If you seem certain that you can accurately predict

                     the trajectory of your own destiny,

                     Just make sure to not rely on your psychic capacity

                     to accomplish this miraculous feat,

                     By simply reading...scattered leaves of oolong tea!!











Penned: 2/23/2022
             Lake Worth
             Florid USA...

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Quick as Piranha


Tucked in a booth in back,
the last customer of the day 
cracks a fortune cookie,

sips Oolong as Mr. Hong
locks up. It’s time for his supper.  
Two tall sons bear

from the kitchen dishes
his wife won’t allow 
on the menu. 

Platters of meat
red, green, brown 
huddle and steam 

in the middle of the table.
When the Hongs
drop in their seats

chopsticks fly 
like beaks. So many bright teeth, 
quick as piranha.


Donal Mahoney...

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Shrimp in Lobster Sauce


Tucked in a booth in back,
the last customer of the day 
cracks a fortune cookie,

sips Oolong as Mr. Hong
locks up. It’s time for his supper.  
Two tall sons bear

from the kitchen dishes
his wife won’t allow 
on the menu. 

Platters of meat
red, green, brown 
huddle and steam 

in the middle of the table.
When the Hongs
drop in their seats

chopsticks fly 
like beaks. So many bright teeth, 
quick as piranha.


Donal Mahoney...

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