Sun rising casts red against gray
Those wispy cobalt streaks
Trying to keep the sun at bay
While roosters crow across the creek
A jet leaves its exhaust behind
White against a blue sky
Such a clear blue this morn~magic
For poet's aging eyes
The clouds are supposed to bring rain
Water in the makin'
A dampness in the air surrounds
But out here joy in the takin'
Cocoon wrapped waits for metamorphosis
Surrounded by His love
As the clouds slowly change and move
Entertained from above
The mood disturbed by man's noise
Closed eyes against the world
The dove's voice begins to sooth
Then tires begin to whorl
As a bumblebee seeks a meal
Inside begonia's bud
The sun slowly slips up higher
Now in middled of sun's flood
Life's duties call out come inside
Where waits a flowing tide
Thank you, God, for time on the porch
For Your love in which I hide
Categories:
middled, age,
Form: Rhyme
Tonight I remembered that England still has a royal family,
Who are paid to play dress up and make believe,
Strutting around in parades to tell all who see,
"This country was inherited by me."
Let's play pretend and say that money,
Was owned by those who work,
Instead of by those who hadn't done any,
Thing but emerge from what their mothers twerk.
It's time for the working lower and middle classes,
Who've been belittled and middled by the high brow and crass,
To demand maximum wages for those CEO masses,
Who want your minimum wages to pay for their idle asses.
Royalty is but the aristocracy we see in the U.S.A.,
Of the rampent run disproportionate pay,
It's time, I say, that we see today,
We deserve to live in a better way.
If there is a god, don't save the queen,
She's fine, for she's rich and hardly ever lifted a hand,
Now help those that have been left trapped in between,
Those who rule and what they claim of the land.
Categories:
middled, class, social, society,
Form: Rhyme