July the twenty second is
The Feast of Mary Magdalene
Whose loving eyes were verdi-gris,
Her body smelled of Jessamine.
Called “Sinner” - yet in spite of it
She ranked among Apostles high,
Amongst them all the “Favorite”
Who with the Lord saw eye-to-eye.
I kiss her picture- grasp my pen
To sing of outcasts of her sort,
The pariah, the Sinner Magdalene,
So highly favored of the Lord.
Faithful and loyal to the end
She stayed with Him upon her knee,
When the disciples’ coward band
Ran, when He hung upon the tree.
The first the Risen Christ to see,-
Appearance with no one to share
For all her love and loyalty,
For at His passion she was there.
Disciples ran,to save their skin,
All took to flight and ran and hid,
But not so Mary Magdalene
Who proved her mettle and her grit.
On her the Lord made the bequest-
Not to disciples’ fickle crew,
To preach and counsel to the rest
Of followers, - Gentile or Jew.
'Ere Paul appeared yet on the scene
And the disciples found their wit,
There was Apostle Magdalene
Illuminating dull esprits.
Disciples pusillanimous,
Who’d left the master in the lurch,-
She counseled them as prophetess
'Ere yet established was the church.
Pray for us Mary Magdalene!
Apostle to Apostles fair,
Be our teacher, coach and dean,
And take us wayward in your care!.
I have been reading poetry, especially of theology and history, for 28 years. In that period, this is one of the most impressive---and one of the most important---poems I have ever read. Your sense of the earliest history of Christiaity is very, very sharp, and I applaud this elegant poem! There are very few poems I admit to my heart; this will be one of those few.