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Beatitude

Wheat is in the granary, hay is in the shed,
Lengthening autumn nights find me cuddled up in bed,
Reading from the Good Book, and other good books too,
In peaceful contemplation, I find that my troubles are quite few.
Despite my wayward wanderings around this crazy sphere,
I find my troubles melt away about this time of year.
Cider ferments in the jug, a wonderful shade of yellow,
Mix it with whiskey in my glass and I’m a happy fellow.
Harvest bursts the larder and the barn is filled to the brim,
A turkey is in the oven and I’ve found a tree to trim.
Kids are singing carols and they echo through the home,
I’m already wistful for a visit from that jolly Christmas gnome.
The season is upon us, it’s a good time to be living,
So much happiness in my heart, bursting out in pure Thanksgiving,
Despite humble beginnings I find that I’m blessed beyond all expectation,
I find my life completely full with health and love and family and nation.
May this harvest festival find you equally enshrined,
With love and friends and family and blessings on your mind.

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Election Jazz: The Reds and the Blues

Who is to blame for the mess we are in?
Hatred, Strife, Economics, Spin.
Maybe we ourselves hold blame!
Closed-mindedness, zero-sum games.
Perhaps the issue should instead be,
“What does it take to set us free
From fear and doubt and dishonesty?”

Once again America Plebiscites-
In folksy language, we fuss and fight.
Back and forth the political tug-of-war,
No one really wins when everyone is sore.
For “election have consequences” still holds true-
Though political spoils of war make us raw and bruised,
And to our chagrin no election is ever through!

The loser gets ready for shifting political winds,
And the strategy for the next election already begins.
Though the winner seems happy, on closer inspection,
They are already fundraising for their re-election.
The electorate only has itself to blame,
Selecting the same old people for the same old game,
This outcome has become the object of shame.

With empty promises that we continue to buy,
Politicians are incentivized to lie.
We the people keep stuffing the box
For the candidate promising us the fattest ox
With voters on the take, bad fiscal policy begins
As democracy’s life approaches its ends
Didn’t we ramble, with the Saints Marching in?