The Laureate-My Journey's End

Auto, boat, bus, train or plane

Bode queues, long waits, hard seats, back pain...

down payments for a journey

to gems my heart may e'er retain.

The Laureate-Hackers

Hackers

They are the lowest of the low...

deeper than whale feces go...

viruses formed from deep their soul...

with deeds so cruel they dare not show.

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The Laureate-Illegal Children, redux

Illegal Children

If South and Mid Americas

want their kids to be raised by us.

Let’s vow to ne'er vacation there

with planes, boats, trains or bus.

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The Laureate-To Those That Govern

The Illegal Problem

When small you chose to just ignore.

It grew...you failed to bar our door.

Now we’ve a monster with which to contend,

and we are the masters no more.

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The Laureate-Illegals, etal

Illegals, etal

Pols Red and Blue now wait for you

to vote before they solve our plight.

If they must wait to cogitate,

in Congress few are erudite.

(Problems seldom fade away,

but Man’s trust can oft decay.)

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The Laureate-Independence Day

Independence Day

As you gaze upon the sky

as rockets fill the night,

and Sousa’s marches make you cry…

our flag lumed by their light,

remember good men fight and die

to shield our dear birthright.

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The Laureate-World Soccer Game

World Soccer Game 

We may have lost a soccer game,

but never quenched our Nation’s fame.

We played the sport two hours, and more...

and ‘twas but time that overcame?

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