Friday Night

If your road less traveled

is yellow-bricked and never ending,

Or your Walden’s Pond

has frozen over,

You can still cut a rug,

To make you love,

A quarter note Friday evening.


(All right reserved 2018 – Mary Bedient)


A fountain

is just a fountain,

until you add a wish.

A wishing well

is just a wishing well,

made rich

by your financial pitch.

But caution to the fish,

who might eat your pitch,

and be served sauced

on another’s dish.

For the wishful dish,

stolen by a thieving fish,




(2018 – all rights reserved – Mary Bedient)



What’s On the Menu?

What are you serving for breakfast?

Ah yes, carrots and peas.

Well what are you serving for lunch then?

Why sir, carrots and peas.

So what are you serving for tea, may I ask?

You may.  Carrots and peas.

And what are you serving for sup later on?

Our chef says, carrots and peas.

Dessert, let me guess, don’t tell me.

Will it be carrots and peas?

Oh no sir, we serve fresh coffee,

just for you, to put you at ease.

How lovely!  For me?  I’ll take one large cup

and filled to the brim if you please.

Right away sir! How do you take your coffee?

With one carrot

and two peas.

(2018 – all rights reserved – Mary Bedient)

Musical Trenches

Trebled times envisioned

by the staff leader’s shadow,

the rise and end of a boastful summer cadence.

The one looks at five.


Soulful, enigmatic, leering

by the brushing broomsticks on decks

to the last breathing branch of song.

Making trenches,

filling trenches,

fast as the shovels scoops

the bugle sounds.


(all rights reserved – Mary L. Bedient)