Swift is the small fox

running across the vast field

chased by barking dogs.

~

Swift, but wily too,

he’ll soon shift to shake the pack,

knowing what he’s driven toward.

Herbs and pork and smoke,

of these three, it is the last

heralding a great repast.

~

Following the scent

of all three, folks come hoping

it tastes as good as it smells.

Virginia’s magic

is on full display these days

and we are bewitched.

~

Nature bewitches

all who wander with eyes wide

and minds and hearts attentive.

Life moves so damned fast

we barely have time to wake

before darkness falls.

~

And the sun seems to

rise only minutes after

we finally lay down our heads.

Tree branches reach out,

hoping to catch the sun,

but catch falling rain instead.

~

Tree, really, cares not,

knowing that today’s rainfall

will support tomorrow’s growth.

Wheeling and dealing

for neither fun nor profit

is no way to spend a day.

~

In the end when all

is done and we are spent, may

there be little to repent.

Rabbits are hopping

all about as the crows call

for a moratorium.

~

Those pallbearer crows

think the world’s a solemn place

where merriment should be shunned.

How can they believe

exclusion and giant walls

pave the highway to greatness?

~

The smaller you are

on the inside, the more need

you have for these barriers.

A big day has passed

leaving behind a promise

that more of them lie ahead.

~

If room still exists,

the diversity displayed

promises greatness to come.

Three generations.

Poetic family shrieking.

Will this third move the dial?

~

The switch has been flipped.

The dial has moved. Today

we honor the third in line.

My poet grandson

will soon get his diploma.

Will it be written in verse?

~

In the olden days

almost all diplomas rhymed

since they were scribed in Latin.

Dark scuttling clouds

Rushing angrily about

Threatening dire outcomes

~

Turns out it was just

a lot of stormy bluster

as the dark clouds slunk away.

If a bribe can be

seen in the air does it land

on Trump to repair?

~

Called bribe or baksheesh,

the essence remains the same:

The cost of doing business.

The expectancy

in a canine’s frank regard,

the guilty find unnerving.

~

They look at us with

knowing eyes that reflect how

we have treated them.

I tried to explain

on Mothers’ Day I sleep late,

but no one here would buy it.

~

Everybody knows

mothers rise before the sun

to stimulate its rising!

Executive whim;

The U. S. Constitution;

under which shall we proceed?

~

It all depends on

whom you ask, mindful folk or

our own maniac in chief.

Fireflies remind

us even small bits of light

bring comfort to night’s darkness.

~

Intermittent lights

flashing into emptiness

long serve to guide us homeward.

Today we invite

you to write your own poem

and post it as a comment.

~

Nothing will happen

to all our “if onlys” ’til

we take some action.

~

Even with action

some of our “if only” will

obstinately defy change.

Good public servants

begrudge not their focal point

of honest public ire.

~

But if the one you

serve is only yourself, why

tend to the public’s concerns?

The ridiculous

and the sublime – each evokes

a smile of its own kind.

~

The chuckle of mirth

and despair’s rueful guffaw

are, likewise each, laughs of sorts.

Luddite’s may be right

in shunning technology

if we can’t use it wisely.

~

Knowledge and wisdom

are both needed, but sometimes

they’re in short supply.

Daffy Donald ducks

behind a wall of senseless

words and cruelty.

~

And MAGA minions

furiously wave pitchforks

in discordant patronage.

Let not our failure be

ceding all debate to these

partisan evangelists.

~

Let’s seed the debate

with civility and facts,

something those guys lack.

Maybe May will bring

a song we all can sing or

maybe May won’t let us jive.

~

Jiving May be fraught

since the President decreed

the police above the law.

And thus, Canada

becomes the beacon of hope

shining brightly on the hill.

~

Perhaps that guy Trump

has inadvertently lit

such beacons across the world.

A tree stands alone

in a field, branches outstretched,

waving to the sun.

~

A lone testament

to a once vast forestland

long since broken to the plough.

When the cat’s away,

mice will tend to overeat,

and lounge about carelessly.

~

When the cat comes back

he finds a remarkable

feast awaiting him.

Hurry makes things worse

when it comes to  writing verse.

Fun is what it’s all about.

~

If there is no fun,

 verse, despite meter and rhyme,

reads like a sealed indictment.

Instead of  arming

ourselves with guns, what if we

armed ourselves with compassion?

~

 If you don’t believe

compassion can be lethal,

you ain’t been in the Deep South!