A little girl is singing for the faithful to come ye
Joyful and triumphant, a song she loves,
And also the partridge in a pear tree
“Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be
no more cakes and ale?”
It’s not all cakes and ale.
Sometimes it’s ale and cakes.
At least one of us knew his ale and cakes.
He could poach your deer
to accompany your ale and cakes.
Praise Poem – Caits Meissner
For the Poets at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility
The circle’s purpose is to see each other
our unspoken rule: commit to looking.
To Winter – William Blake
O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark