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HOPE


Weary of all the gloomy news,
Battered and disconsolate
By prophesies of impending doom,
I slumped in dispair
In my comfortless chair
And gave myself over
To thoughts of despair.
Enveloped thus in my private gloom,
I was unaware when a little child
Entered the room, danced to my side,
And took my hand. 


Loretta Carmickle

Caesar and that wall


Caesar D. Chump, ruler of Muddle
commands a wall made of chaos and trouble,
he sits in a white house of ego and disorder
directing his army on the Mexican border.
The ruler of Mexico Enriqueo El Sweeto
demands that Caesar desist and veto,
The senate of Muddle goes into a huddle
to discuss Caesar’s order for this wall of fuddle,
wise Maximous Shoe-maker then kicks their butts
for obeying a direction from a Caesar gone nuts.
Senator Debrain then cracks his whip,
he reveals a plot to end Caesar’s dictatorship,
“lets build a gold throne at the start of his wall
 high enough for him to have a great fall,
we will feed him God syndrome and narcissism pie
then invite him to show us how high he can fly,
when he jumps from his throne crying ‘Look at me’
with his golden locks flying high and free,
the army will think he is a missile to fear
and blast him so hard he will disappear”.
The Senate votes on his ingenious plot
and all agree to give it a shot.
The throne is built and Caesar falls,
the site becomes a Monument to farcical walls.
Caesar is gone and Mexico spared
from aggression imposed by a ruler impaired.
Vice ruler Nonsense feels awful bad
as he tweets to the world-“I’m sooo sad”!

​

J.D. Coutts

RUNAWAY


Old wounds left your right leg permanently injured, Mom, after that auto accident years ago— limited your mobility some, long kept you from driving a car.


New wounds must be what drove you to want to leave home  that summer Saturday afternoon, not long after the war.


Saddled with two clueless little kids, you rode off on the local bus, and took us both with you. All the way to the end of the line, only to wait, pay tokens for a new fare, then slowly circle on home.


Two out of three of us had a great adventure.


Ann M. Penton

Poetry Page

YES, LET THE TEARS COME


As I continue to read
     - on and on -
Hundreds of names
Inked onto migrant quilts memorializing
Those who died in the desert in pursuit of a better life,
I am drawn into -
 Hopes shattered
          Dreams unrealized
         Anguish
         Suffering
         Death
And the tears come.
Tears of
        Compassion
        Sorrow
        Frustration
       Anger
Yes, let the tears come,
And with them the resolve
To work towards a time
When there are no more tears.
Ah, no more tears.


Loretta Carmickle

Dusty

​

My son, a Patriot, a Believer
Wonderful Times, Hard Times

​

I miss you forever, wonderful
rhymes

​

Tears of Joy, Tears of love
My heart for you
in Heaven Above
Dusty, you are the most
excellent person Life could
Bestowe

​

The Ache in my Heart
Runs very Deep
into my heart it will
seep
I hope again you visit my
soul

​

It is something that
would make my Heart whole

​

All of my Love,


Forever Mom

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