The Laureate-The Christmas Spirit

God sent his son...His love disperse.

Now foolish men but spur commerce...

not message that an open heart

can outshine more than an open purse.

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The Laureate-Ferguson and Beyond

Burnings, riots, parades in streets,

shouts of rage and angry tweets,

from those who know not all the facts...

as their pent up bile excretes. 

Know now the years where bias slaked

and fellowship for all awaked,

your actions set your cause aback...

and stress all bonds till they may break.

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The Laureate-Thanksgiving

For what can I be thankful

when I peruse the news?

Our world is filled with suffering

and terrorism brews.

I’m thankful I’m American,

where freedoms are assured.

I’m thankful for my kith and kin,

whose love o’er time endured.

I’m thankful for my health...

regardless how I ache.

I’m thankful that God grants me life...

but pray it’s no mistake.

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The Laureate-An Unfair Fare

The tray pains gut, so gear you hug.

and the seats are much too snug.

If all aboard are not petite,

a customer can’t even shrug.

It’s plain to see such vile design

does not a human have in mind...

only a sadist would have you sit

in chairs that bind and won’t recline.

{...you may soon have more than enough seats.}

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The Laureate-Executive Action

Three tests make laws official...

from Prez, the Hill, Judicial.

When the Prez directs them all,

some sense the Constitution’s knell.

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The Laureate-Whoa!

It seems that here we go again,

the world relies on our countrymen...

Ebola, wars, and migrant tots.

Are we alone in the U.N.?

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The Laureate-New Horizon Mission

The probe will flyby Pluto...

pray planet, and not a frozen rock.

Or billions of miles for pics and flicks

puts us in hock to icily gawk.

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The Laureate-Veteran's Day

They faced the Horsemen for our sake

each time our freedom was at stake.

We honor them now, but never forget...

our debt to them we cannot forsake.

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The Laureate-The Future

Rapacious man, since time began,

found life on earth mere also-ran.

And now it seems these parasites

have our planet overran.

They only sate their here and now...

must let our progeny cope somehow?

In the past our heroes have answered call...

must we leave youth to steer the prow?

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The Laureate-illegal's bail

Tell me the logic nonpareil

That bail you can illegal’s sell,

when any fool with mind of mule;

knows what the future will foretell.

(They fade from view...and lost to you).

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The Laureate-Congratulations

Congratulations! You who won...

the votes are in, all counting done.

I pray your ads, phone calls and mail,

don’t soon unveil but foul fiction.

{May voters remember!}

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The Laureate-Tomorrow's Vote

Thirty-five thousand ads or more

tell us who we’re voting for.

If you believe their every word,

fear what this nation has in store.

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