If they’d spend just half

the energy listening

spent planning their rebuttal…

~

Sadly, this is true

of all of us. As the song 

goes, “When will we ever learn?”.

When nobody’s home,

why keep knocking? Some doors will

stay forever closed.

~

Persistent pounding

on doors long since painted shut,

still supplies satisfaction.

Whatever you say,

a comic Presidency

is still no laughing matter.

~

There’s nothing comic

about children in cages

or twitter rages.

Why paste a smile

on a sad face? Isn’t that

what circus clowns do?

~

Incongruity

between mood and affect

is often diagnostic.

In these fricative times

morn decency’s champion;

lest ye gloat too soon.

~

He was a beacon

of light illuminating

a way for all to walk tall.

When did the Little

Engine that Wouldn’t replace 

The Little Engine that Could?

~

An Engine that won’t

run even though capable

surely NEEDS to be replaced.

Despite desires

to become a timely scribe,

still the pen falters…

~

 All poets falter

from time to time. Scribing is

easy but it’s hard to rhyme.

Busy days make for

poemless nights, but still we’ll

never write it off.

~

In these crazy times,

how can we tell write from wrong

or distinguish fiend from foe?

Sunlight still breaks through

though you can’t escape the grey

on this cloud-filled day.

~

Long awaited rain

brings the promise of relief

to parched pasture and meadow.

Don can rest assured;

History will regard him a

“Superlative President”.

~

Extraordinary

to be sure as a heartless

wonder and a Russian tool.