A silken drop nectar refined,
Delicious, smooth, it’s taste sublime,
Worshipped and revered in times of old,
Bacchus it’s God, his hand-maidens bold.

The Romans swilled, the Greeks imbibed,
The British drank, the French prescribed.
The Church just called it Christ’s own blood,
Believers flowed as if by flood.

This luscious liquid as fine as honey,
The fountain not of youth but merely money,
Small price to pay for so much fun,
When it can turn a dowdy day to sun.

Clinking glasses moments shared,
The more imbibed the more is bared,
Food important or so they claim,
When as a smokescreen its main aim.

All that said let me be clear
There’s a reason we choose wine not beer,
Wine is healthy, helps the heart,
Beer is fattening and so ****.

Is there a time when friendship does not count,
Where bonds forged in war are callously
forgotten
Is now the time for their suffering to willfully
discount
As a passing blight, a chore ill-gotten?

Is desperation always someone else’s burden,
To be observed but ultimately ignored,
Their fate unclear, easier to draw that curtain
To an inconvenient truth only in words
deplored.

To politician’s promises are tenuous,
They matter only when there’s gain,
Integrity is often deemed too arduous,
Little caring for other’s strife and pain.

But to those of us who conflict shared,
Who know by name those left behind,
Fully aware of all they dared,
Our life with theirs lies intertwined.

What can we say, what can we do
This cruel injustice to make right,
But raise our voice, shout what is true,
Honor our debt, correct this blight.

Hello you
This is me
I feel so very far away;
I miss you
In every way
More than I can ever say;
As I lay
Here all alone
I count the passing of each day;
To be close
Hold you tight
In your arms so gently sway;
Feel your breath
Your warm touch
For this moment I so pray;
Good night my love
Thoughts of us
Keep my welling tears at bay.

You may well ask where am I,
Am I engaged or fully checked out,
Take a seat, happy to clarify,
Placate your mind, dispel any doubt.

I'm Biding my time and that's not a joke,
Giving the old guy time to implode,
He's senile and tired, befuddled and woke,
Any wires remaining will for sure  overload.

The Border is crumbling, COVID runs wild,
Afghanistan gone, China supreme,
Kamala in hiding, lost and beguiled,
Progressives now surging their wishlist extreme.

Nancy grandstanding, Chuck babbling loud,
Cuomo shot down, who would have known,
Just goes to show it's good to be proud,
If your cover is solid and not wholly blown.

I'm mulling and watching disasters untold,
Inflation unbridled, crime running wild,
The Media's support from lukewarm to cold,
Uncle Joe's moods ever more riled.

Well may you ask why I seldom now speak.
The answer is simple and easy to grasp,
Time is my friend as you see week by week,
And eventually bites like a poisonous Asp.

A land fought over from antiquity,
It's fertile plains and mountains steep,
Coveted and plundered with iniquity,
It's people slaughtered as helpless sheep.

From Alexander, through Genghis Khan,
Invading hordes without respite
Killing all to the last man,
Sowing misery and plight.

They in turn spawned ruling lords,
But the circle didn't cease,
Yet more came with thrusting swords,
No nobler reason than to fleece.

Empires came then empires went,
Their legacy imprinted on its people,
A motley quilt of rich descent,
Sullen faces altered by each sequel.

So what now this time of gloom,
As darkness spreads once more,
Freedom quashed, for thought no room,
Supplanted only by misery and war.

And yet a shard of light may still exist,
Despite their new Master’s crushing hand,
If these hardy people can persist,
They may well in time reclaim their land.

Divisive, abusive, hollow and torn,
Our politics broken through anger and scorn,
More pointing of fingers, of turning one's back,
Is this the new norm, our thorny new track?

What happened to thinking before all those tweets,
Like manicured gardens torn up by rough cleats,
The skill of debate, of viewing both sides,
Bridging that gap from all which divides?

Conviction and Passion bedfellows at times,
Are often the cause of unspeakable crimes,
Opinions do matter but where the heart rules
Indiscriminately steals the most precious of tools.

Reason and empathy, knowledge and tact,
Not impulse and odium and that's a firm fact;
One road may be windy, the other dead straight,
But both may yet lead to the very same gate.

A viewpoint reminds of an infant just born,
It develops and thrives if loved not forlorn,
Tended and taught by the many not few,
For that kernel of light to shine brightly through.

Balanced and just, open to thought,
Opinions conceived and not merely taught,
An untenable vision, an improbable dream?
It takes but the thinnest of wedges to open a seam.

What qualities make a ‘successful man’,
Is it the tambor of his voice,
Some lofty goals, a lifelong plan,
A steering hand, his knowing choice.

Can compassion play a part
Or is that interpreted as meekness;
Is it wrong to show a heart
Without labeling it as weakness?

Does strength need to be paraded
A steely front for all to see,
Is authority degraded
When others sometime don't agree?

An old proverb said as much:
"A wise man is one who listens"
Few have had the Midas touch
And those that did have breached divisions.

Three traits renown - the deadly cluster,
The very ones to spell out doom,
Bravado, Braggadocio and sheer Bluster,
For all they bring is downright gloom.

So where's the rulebook, that golden fleece
To show the way and light the path,
That font of knowledge and inner peace,
Assured success without the wrath?

Where it exists is inner strength,
A willingness to learn whilst teaching too,
Consistency and grace to any length,
Embracing all of us, not simply you.