Short Ploughshares Poems

Let the flags 
             come down
    let the nations 
"beat their swords into ploughshares"
   The trouble must stop!
Let peace flow like a river
Joy is what we shall know
  And eyes will see tomorrow
    If we act now!...

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People worshiping peacefully 
Were struck down by bullets
Happens far too often in this country
Perhaps times will
change for the better 
Let us pray that they will
Violence begets violence
Broken lives 
cannot always be repaired 
One day 
swords will be beaten into ploughshares 
Let us hope that day comes soon...

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The pillow queen stokes her empire
her quivering hand follows her letter
to all it may concern

cry in the dark
although she maybe strong,
made out of ploughshares
the sun still flickers

so much has gone already
and little is wept for
growing old
your strands of whitish hair
you may pray like a cygnet
but hopes are fenced 
...

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On Sunday the Festival of Light begins 
Everyone does not know what that stands for 
So I'll explain 
It celebrates a revolt against oppression 
by the Israelites 
against cruel rulers 
who refused to let them 
practice their faith 
The people of Israel triumphed 
Led by Judah Maccabbee 
and his family 
a remarkable victory!
One day "swords will be beaten into ploughshares"
That seems a distant hope 
But if we "keep the faith"
IT WILL HAPPEN...

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A lone voice echoes in the hear of the valley
     Did you hear it? 
     Are you willing to work for peace? 
Tall trees surround the green carpet which is the valley 
a stream meanders through the valley 
Before the leaves turn crimson and gold
Watch the birds flying over the valley 
Breathe in the pure air 
Take time to realize inner peace
   and do not heed angry words of war  
    A lone voice
calls out for peace
Swords will be beaten into ploughshares 
   in the not - too - distant future...

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If I ruled the world of words
I would empower that refined bond
Wave gracefully my magic wand
And into ploughshares beat swords.
*****
I would invoke all the Muses of poetry
With the truest of voices, in a fervent chant
To cast a spell on souls and every quill enchant
And serve Art attain beauty and glory.
*****
If I ruled the world of words
I would feed its soil and clear it of weeds
Unearth all its fields and sow the finest of seeds
And reap an ink stirred by divine hummingbirds....

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