A table dressed
In Autumn red and gold,
Flickering tapers beckon –
The feast awaits –
An amber bird, trussed and tied,
Overflowing with succulent stuffing,
Rests in a fragrant cloud of scent,
Next to humble mashed potatoes
And glistening candied yams,
Sensible salad and unassuming rolls.
A hush of appreciation falls
As the finely dressed are seated
Before the best china and crystal,
Spreading linen cloths across their laps.
Hand in hand,
A mumbled prayer of thanks
For goodness given,
Is all too soon
Drowned out by pungent words
As battle lines are drawn.
We’ve had a week to percolate
A thousand words to navigate,
It’s up to us to find the truth
That’s hidden in the voting booth;
Cryptic meetings, cracking code
May lead us down a dark, dark road
A small machine that stands alone
While Sally goes to get the phone,
A small adjustment, just a smidge
Is all it takes to burn that bridge.
Now exit polls don’t match results,
But we can take this; we’re adults.
Concessions speech that asks for peace,
And hope, and for a wide release.
We split, and while a segment cheers
Others must confront their fears,
Voices raised in deep despair,
Asking, how can this be fair?
How can a campaign run on blame
By a man who gained his fame
Through TV shows and business fails
Be asked to hoist the country’s sails?
A man who counsels with our foe.
Who knows where this whole thing may go?
But wait! you cry, Hold up! It’s good.
He’s our president. You should
Accept him now. Give him a chance.
To nothing give a backward glance,
Not to the stories where he proclaimed
Our president moot; a crowd inflamed.
“Where’s that form?” He asked for years,
A plea that fell on willing ears
Of people who’d been trained to follow
“News” that to the rest rang hollow.
Words we’d never heard before
Came crashing through that campaign door,
Pussy grabbing; at fever pitch
“Lock her up,” and Trump that Bitch
If we don’t like the way this goes
It’s rigged, the 2A folks will show
The rest of you. We’ll right a wrong
With a seething, stewing, angry throng
Those emails proved that she was bad,
He takes to Twitter, says it’s sad.
You listened, voted, made your choice
And now the people raise their voice.
Which at present they are guaranteed,
As to the future, we shall see.
Appointments from the alt-right crowd –
Don’t normalize. We must get loud.
A son-in-law who must know all,
Now give your congressman a call.
Your civic duty doesn’t stop
Once you make your ballot drop.
Make donations, join a group,
By all means stay within the loop,
Democracy means do your part
And fight for your rights with all your heart.
Here’s a throwback to a great speech by a great American.
Hope. Change. Unity.
Good words. Let’s not forget them, though the times seem dark.
Determination set in steel.
Decision making – this is real.
The first step is to take the leap.
Your destiny is yours to keep.
In a world of opportunity
Sometimes the road is hard to see.
Second thoughts may hold you back;
Go ahead and choose a path;
You alone can make the choice.
Stake your claim.
Find your voice.
Enter the ring, though you may fail.
Have hope the wind will catch your sail.
Live your passion.
Find your bliss.
Shoot for the moon,
Though you may miss.
The stars are there to break your fall,
So go ahead, give it your all.
I’ll have a burger with mayo and cheese,
Tomatoes and peppers, but no relish please.
Finely chopped pickles create such a mess,
Is it sweet, hot, or dill?
Please don’t make me guess.
A big kosher dill?
Sure. Give me a slice,
And I’ll eat up that burger without thinking twice.
Vivid, vibrant fall –
Low hung sunshine reflected
On a glassy pond.
Is my sincerity
A burden to your beliefs?
Even mighty stone-laden glaciers
Slowly scour down mountains.
In response to The Daily Post’s prompt: Sincere
You are the beaver,
I am the tree.
Little by little
You whittle at me,
One day I’ll topple
And where I once stood,
Will be painful reminders
Of tooth marks on wood.
Hey! Look up!
Did I utter a sound?
The sunset is glorious!
Why are you looking down?
Words ring hollow as
I stand alone,
Me and the sunset,
You and your phone.
No dwarves are knocking on my door –
No secret invitation.
I have no wizard on my side
To lead my life evasion.
My laptop screen is black as night
No blips to wake me up,
No hands outstretched with blue or red
To show the great set-up.
I have no skills at hunting game
That might secure my future
And that of all humanity
Awakening from its stupor.
My planet with its one sole moon
Is not in any danger;
My roomba doesn’t grace me with
A message from a stranger.
My muggle life is staunchly set,
No secret wizard skill.
No great, vile villain threatens
To pry me from my will.
My simple life is all there is,
No hanging on precariously;
Through screen and print I’ll have to live
My hero’s quest vicariously.