I slept for forty years
My eyes closed to injustice
But I’m awake now
Patriotism
Might mean kneeling in protest
Soldiers bought that right
We might not condone
The paths these protesters trod
But their rights remain
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
Tentative chirping
Followed by full throated song
Forest symphony
Faint wood smoke curling
From a neighboring chimney
Pairs with strong coffee
Scant breeze stirs the lake
Fish send out rippling signals
While frogs sun on logs
Sitting slyly perched within
The silver strands stretched tightly
I’ve woven this silk for you, my love
Come lounge here with me nightly
Your gossamer threads cannot hold
Your liquid words won’t bind
I’ll sit with you for just a spell
Then leave your web behind
Of course, she whispered soothingly
Here, rest in my embrace
Through half closed eyes he watched
As she moored him to her place.
When up becomes down
Two wrongs might make something right
Topsy turvy world
Fake news could be true
According to the hucksters,
Else it’s all a ruse
Care to take a chance?
What’s behind door number one?
Pure propaganda
I wasn’t always Nana. Once upon a time I was plain old Leslie, occasionally “honey” or whatever endearment
Came immediately to Studly’s tongue. But by far, Nana is the best name I’ve ever been given. Fifteen years ago this week,
Nana was born when a beautiful, round faced baby girl was placed in my arms. Her wide blue eyes connected with my own
Amazed brown ones, and I have been forever changed. I might have once been ordinary, but now I am Nana.
Happy 15th birthday to our eldest grandchild, Dominique Grace. I meant to post this on Wednesday, but never changed the post from “draft” to “scheduled.”
She haunts me at times
Those weary eyes and sad smile
When the facade fades
I cannot gaze long
Fearful of her influence
Leery of her ills
Mocking me, she stares
Eye to eye, she locks me in
My mirror tells all
Sheltered here
We feel the prayers,
Waves of heavenly love
In an earthly storm
Winds rage and wane
We feel the prayers
Frissons of faith
To comfort and calm
In our worried hearts
We feel your prayers
Buoying our spirits
Carrying us through
We know she’s out there
Churning on the horizon
Her name on our lips
Feverish dervish
Frantic dance for the ages
Spinning tirelessly
Irma, we feel you
Whatever slights you’ve suffered
We will bear your pain
Totem pole bottom
Weighed down by crows and warriors
View never changes
Lofty intentions
Brought low by circumstances
Hardly moving up
Change doesn’t come
He remains the same old wolf
Underneath it all
Who would she have been
Rooted in the old home soil
Victim or victor
How life has changed her
Honed and toughened, awakened
She’s nobody’s pawn
There are those who prey
Others seek in vain to shame
Who would she have been?
Praying for Eyebrowz 