Cedar berries glow
a ghostly aquamarine --
the lawn needs mowing
In the summer dust
the sparrows tumble and bathe --
time to do laundry
Clouds lit from above
at sunrise make little sense --
neither does ripe kale
The Governors, all GOP/want freedom and pure liberty/for each resident/and so they resent/vaccines and masks constantly.
The private equity firm/makes English biznesses squirm/It seems we darn Yanks/have money in banks/while the is Pound very infirm.
Mountains through the haze
of gray smoke and memories --
I let the meat burn
The axe is laid at the root of the tree/and servants must productive be/If this seems harsh, remember God/works with all who might be flawed/He'll make allowance for mistakes/but won't abide pretentious fakes.
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