My Matriarchal Mama

When I was in the seventh grade,
My teacher was a formidable woman.
She had a presence that I craved;
I felt like her favored one.

When my little sister would come knocking
On this teacher's classroom door,
She'd gently call for "Little Mother,"
When she could have been angry, I'm sure.

My sister had a stomach ache
Because she was always scared;
Her big brown eyes could never fake
The terror that was in her head.

My teacher would allow me to
Calm my sister and go call our home,
But then I'd have to leave her
In the office all alone.

I never forgot this teacher's kindness,
Or the fact that she was so brave
In standing up to my bullying brother,
Which put my mother in a rage.

When I went for my first job
As a recently divorced mom,
She was secretary to my boss,
And managed to keep me calm.

So many times she's been there for me,
Like a angel with her flaming sword.
I knew that I only got the job
On this woman's positive word.

Now she is recently widowed,
And her son has passed away.
Her daughter is a full time nurse,
But I have time to play.

She fixed for me a luscious lunch,
And gave me leftovers to take away.
She sets a lovely table,
In a proper New England way.

I know I should be cooking for her
After all she's done for me.
But she so loves doing for others,
I had to let this be.

Her words of wisdom and her wit
Are such a welcome gift to me,
When I get to be eighty-six,
She's who I want to be.

My friend's requeted last verse re: Dogs, Don't Walk on White Sand

Mississippi beaches sure missed out
Because me and my friend
Picked up other people's trash,
Leaving the beach clean from beginning to end.

Dogs, Don't Walk on the White Sand

My girlfriend wanted to take her pups
For their first-ever romp on the beach.
I was thrilled to be included
Because so much beach is in reach.

I took a ride down the Mississippi coast
Only to find, to my chagrin
That now they've cleaned their beaches
Dogs are no longer welcomed in.

The neighborhood where we lived
Before Katrina stole our home
Has a small beach on the lake
Where dogs are free to roam.

It was delightful watching her poodle
Challenging the waves.
I only wish I could have taken them
To the miles of white sand about which I'd raved.

Peaceful Pastimes

A day of mourning for many in our country,
Was a day of great peace for Richard and me.
We stopped by the home of dearest friends
She and I needed to, a wound made with words, mend.
I needed to hear her gentle voice and see her smiling face,
To make sure our deep love was still in place.
Then our son and his wife welcomed us with open arms;
Their loving home is a shelter in many storms.

At this refuge which produces daily celebration,
My niece and her family came by with libations.
My niece and I had had an argument;
I was so glad to see that her anger was spent.
Watching her children was a pure delight;
Her husband's fried chicken was the hit of the night.
I cried all the way home from the pure beauty of life,
Offered to me as a mother, grandmother, and wife.

It Ain't About Tea; It's About Defining Free

We seem to confuse what it means to be free
With a belief in absolute anarchy.
To be free to do what, to only one, makes sense,
Comes with terrible consequence.

And the creation of leaders who claim divine rights
Has brought our republic to a terrible plight.
We elect heroes who don't play by our rules,
And make the hardest workers look like fools.

We don't need those who were born to privilege,
Their good luck in their births being their edge.
They may think they're modern day Robin Hoods,
Braking laws, believing it's for the public good.

Maybe it's time for true democracy
Where each of our actions is our responsibility;
Where we're held accountable for following common rules,
Beginning with regaining control of our schools.

The language of commerce is, by default, English;
Common language to communicate is a must.
And order is not only an English concept;
It is the way that we show each other respect.

We will always need common laborers;
Those who fail in the classroom can join this corps,
But we must stop being fooled by the wealthy
Who in, robbing hard workers, are very stealthy.

It is we who pay taxes who are paying for them
To lord their status over honest women and men.
The rich and powerful are not our friends;
Our fear is that on which their power depends.

In the land of the free and the home of the brave
We are not put here to be our leaders' slaves.
We don't need blustering hypocrites
Who lie to us as if we're all half-wits.

They threaten if we don't do what they say;
With their money and power, they'll move away.
I say let them go and don't let them come back.
We have hard working citizens to take up their slack.

Our Nation and Salvation

We must set up a new definition and following of patriotism,
Where we shun anyone who believes the law of the land is not for her or him.
I have no use for movie stars or other clowns of our nation;
I don't think that the most entertaining will affect our salvation.

I vote for those who encourage free will and free thought,
Which are the principles for which we were told our wars were fought.
When loyalty to one person or party is seen as necessity,
It goes against all the ideals that make our country free.

We approve only abstinence education mandated by adulterous hypocrites
Who lead our sovereign nation and give me moral fits.
I don't like abortion any more than fertility treatments;
Hypocrisy in our laws is what makes me come unbent.

There are many in the religious right who hire illegal immigrants,
And pay no social security. Our money, on their help, is spent.
They seem to live by the law that what is secret is right,
Forcing law abiding citizens to subsidize their employees' plights.

We can continue to pretend that we are a Judeo-Christian nation,
But we are allowing those who follow no rules of faith to control creation.
I have one constant question in our strong religion-based rhetoric,
Are our leaders actually people of faith, or is their religion a parlor trick?

My Mamas

I spoke to both my mamas; they say they miss me every day.
I have waited for sixty years to have a mama with that to say.
I suspect it's because I have a habit of writing what looks like eulogies
For people who are still living, not waiting till they're deceased.
I write much about these women; what they say should be holy scriptures,
But we have all these rules which, on scripture, put strictures.

Unfortunately, for me, this causes some to become quite cocky,
And our relationships are bound to become rather rocky.
I never know if their reaction is because I embarrass them
By being so forthcoming with how I feel about my friends.
These two women are from the old school and spend their lives in service.
I find them so uplifting that, their presence, I often miss.

They have learned to laugh and to cry with their trusted friends,
Knowing that, as long as we care, our grief in being human never ends.
I so admire these women for their wit and their wisdom
It is a great honor that they count me as their valued friend.
I admire so many people for how they avoid false pride,
But admiration for each other is something that should not be denied.