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SELECTED POEMS
Soul Swim
Public Poetry Anthology
(Finalist, 2019 Contest) Poem: "Pilgrim Dance"
Entropy Magazine
"Irish Roots" - Still Point Arts Quarterly, Spring 2020, page 57
The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature
Deep South Magazine - April 17, 2020
Deep South Magazine - April 30, 2020
The Creativity Webzine - "Flower Songs" - May 31, 2020
The Remington Review - Summer 2020 (Page 37)
Strands Lit Sphere - July 2020
Tiny Seed Literary Journal - August 2020
"Grapevines" - Sage Cigarettes Magazine, December 2020, Page 18
"Blue Ridges" - Open Door Magazine, August 2021, Page 34
"Cedar Hill" - Tiny Seed Journal, July 2021


The Song of Miriam (From “Timbrel” – Finishing Line Press, 2013)
(Awarded Second Prize in Artists Embassy International's 2018 Dancing Poetry Contest and read at awards ceremony at the California Palace of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco, September 2018)
Verse 1: Prophecy
Abba, Father of Abraham, Great I AM,
I awake from the New Moon dream
tell the women we shall soon dance in the middle of the sea
watch our enemies vanish, water washing over them
Get your timbrels ready
sisters, mothers, daughters
ready to follow me
in a dance of victory
With each New Moon, we rehearse the dance
Lifting our instruments to heaven
cloud by day, fire by night
In the dance, we take our flight
The prophecy takes root
in a watery, dark womb
my hips bring it forth
in a great cry of praise
You Abba made me leader of this dance
I speak Your truths in wordless song
Sisters and brothers, it won’t be long
till the water breaks and
brings the dawn
Verse 2: Moving to the Beat
The music makes our journey flow
We move in military formation from Succoth to Etham
On the edge of the wilderness
I play and we chant as we march
Glory to You, God in the Highest,
Our strong deliverer leading us onward
And we will not be afraid
I shake the eternal circle of praise
Dancing in captivity back in Egypt
and now in freedom
at births, in the death watch
Circling those coming and going
Pleasure always mixed with pain
I stay true to my calling,
Oh Great I AM, I remain
Faithful to Your dance

Sleeping with the Serpent
~For Aunt Mary Ellen
On threshing day, she said,
we emptied the straw tick mattresses
poured the old chaff into the pig sty,
washed the cotton sacks and hung them
to dry in early autumn sun.
None of us saw the black snake slither
into the pile of new straw.
He did not move when we picked up the stack
and stuffed it into the large pillow case,
sewing the prison shut.
Uncle slept atop the hibernating serpent
until spring came, the mattresses were
once again emptied for washing, and out
crawled the survivor –
well rested, resurrected.
~Marianne Mersereau (Appeared in The Hollins Critic, April 2019)
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