A Mighty Oak standing strong in the midday sun
One branch upon it leafless utterly barren
It has seen more lives than just this one
But lived them all under the same daylight sun
Living strong, its choice was none
It only happened, stance, that this acorn won
So God-fearing and righteous, so full of nice
Her heart literally aches for a comment or two
Placement on a list would be mighty nice, too,
Into a dull life they would bring her some spice.
Patriotic to a fault, not a kind word for Biden
She’s a far right-wing lover of the “savoir faire?”
But doesn’t seem to know the meaning of fair
I am fearing she may be mentally slip-slidin’.
She claims her friends were mostly fair-weather
But they suffered her long as they possibly could,
As long as any reasonable, sane person would
Until they learned they were not of her feather.
Here is the point, if you think you know a poet
Who meets this honest, forthright description
I can write for you an appropriate prescription,
Keep your distance from her and do not blow it.
A word or two of comfort in a comment to her
Will be misunderstood; she will turn on you fast
Forever after she’ll take you before the mast
She’ll always hate; in her butt, you’ll be a burr!
Written May 28, 2022
meaner than greener
the other side of barb wire
open hands get cut
***
I abide nature
psy as it rests and solace
winter's BURR frozen
casting snows blowing
so engulfing winds flurrings
frozen winter's BURR
12/24/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
J A Burr John Albert Burr
J A Burr John Albert Burr
Wealthy black ensured young John
To attend Engineering classes
John studied, repaired and service farm equipment
In 1898 invented 1st Rotary Lawn Mower
2/11/18
written James Edward Lee Sr.
Hand in hand I'd remember a sultry dance
that gather autumn leaves surrounding
the balance between here and now
while fashions sway in a temptress breeze
beyond the craving thoughts that mingles
throughout a mindless maze words become
tokens of grains of sand while laughter bounce
off cemetery walls awakening sorrow above
slab stone fencing catering to a calming purgatory
quieted by jaded hymns and silent whispers
being carefully covenant above the cities shorelines
as abandoned depris of poshed plageristic values
tinged with forgotten anger amidst the tainted hints
of torn angels wing blowing desperately about
heavens sphere why covered in weather and waste
moss and mace blueprints lay an awakening map of lots
and busted up burial plots as my heart dangles behind my soul