Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 9

Guardian Angel

Flying high above the ground,

Always vigil, looking down,

Guardian angels keep us safe

When all the world has come unwound.

 

Safe from harm, safe from fright,

Leading with a guiding light

Out of darkness to a place

Where every wrong will be set right.

 

Walk before us to implore us

To explore our destiny.

Be our emissary as we

Supplicate on bended knee.

 

When the world to us is lost

And we can’t comprehend the cost,

You hold our hand and keep us safe

Until the battlefield is crossed.

 

When the day is finally done

And stumbles past the setting sun,

Keep us in your watchful vigil

Til the dawn at last has come.

 

A Little Whimsy

There are times to put on a serious face

And take care of business with humility.

But adding a trace of whimsical grace

Can enhance any plan’s credibility.

 

This does not mean we should plot, planand scheme

To undermine negotiations,

But keeping the party a littlelight-hearted

Can avert many sad situations.

 

Let’s all learn a lesson

And yield a confession:

We indulge for levity’s sake.

If cheerful and carefree

And guided by whimsy

We can avoid so many mistakes.

 

A Letter to Congress

Sitting here with pen in hand,

A letter to my congressman, or

Woman if the case may be.

Must be correct politically.

 

A bone to pick.

A right to wrong.

A short retort or

Missive long.

In tone polite

Or discourse as strong as

A raucous rude calliope.

 

Weeks go by with no reply

Until faint hope begins to die.

Then suddenly, my tired eyes see

A communique addressed to me.

 

Hope springs high to think that my

Epistle has received attention.

Finally, my point of view will

Get due recognition.

 

Instead, I get a, “Thank you, but….”

Form letters tend to blather.

Another voice discounted

As if it doesn’t even matter.

 

Let’s Get it Right

Try as they might they just

Can’t get it right,

And although it excites

To observe as they fight,

I would scream with delight

If they only alight

Without being contrite

On a common ground site.

 

As concepts ignite

And discussions grow tight

Why can’t one underwrite

An idea so bright

Beyond all black and white

To bring brilliance and light

And truly take flight

With brilliant insight. 

 

Then everyone’s sight

Will fly high as a kite

Without worry or fright

If we just get it right.

 

Daily Bread

Thankful for the bounty of

The copious cornucopia

Of succulent soothing sustenance 

To sate vital voraciousness.

 

Thankful, for I know it is not

Readily available to all in want,

The pale, the gaunt, whose trials haunt

The bane of their existence.

 

Thankful to be where I am,

To have my slice of daily bread

That I may function without dread

Of hunger’s haunting o’er my head.

 

Thankful for the humble pie of

Sweet compassion so that I can

Offer hope to those denied

The bounty that the world supplies.

 

Thankful for the watershed

That feeds us in the days ahead

So we may weather without dread,

Nourished by our daily bread.

 

Homeless

Didn’t start out to end up this way.

Not an intentional choice to disclaim.

Rather one forged out of necessity

With nothing by circumstance to blame.

 

A sigh to think we are all just a blink

Away from homelessness;

A fate to which I hate to confess

Is witnessed each and every day.

 

And most will view it with distress

And say, “Oh, no. Not me. No way!”

But fate can be a cruel bastard

Leaving the world in sad disarray.

 

Shunned… ignored… viewed with distaste…

Cursed… avoided… considered a waste….

Those who view sympathetically

Far too few to affect their reality.

 

Lost in a dissolute uncaring world

Where hope is a vaporous vow,

Learning by doing when doing seems futile,

The homeless survive somehow.

 

Home

Home is much more than

Four walls and a roof

Where we nest at the end of the day.

More than a haven to rest and replenish

When life falls into disarray.

 

Through the dark and the light,

The black and the white and

Every shade of gray,

Home is the constant, the solid, the shelter

That keeps us from going astray.

 

The place that we miss when

Life’s obligations require that we be away

From the people and things

We hold dear in abundance

And for whose safety we pray.

 

It’s where we find comfort,

Where we find ease,

It’s where we want to stay.

A sanctuary from the storm,

Our refuge from the fray.

 

Night

Gentle slumber, come to me

As shadows lengthen into night.

The moon peeks through my window like

The soothing glow of candlelight.

 

A quiet calm engulfs the room

As stillness permeates the air,

And time winds down to a trifling prattle

Then disappears without a care.

 

Silent slumber, heal me, steel me,

Mend the trauma, give me rest.

Prepare me for the day to come

So I may shine among the best.

 

Call it magic if you will.

The story isn’t hard to tell.

And we are wise to close our eyes

And make the most of nighttime’s spell.

 

Fight

Parents will tell you that fighting isbad,

That it should be avoided at every turn.

And they are correct, at least in theory,

But here is an important lesson I learned.

 

Turning a cheek is always an option,

A tool for avoiding a fight,

But walking away, giving bullies theirsway

Will not help in setting things right.

 

Fighting is not always done fist to face

Or with bullets across battlefields.

Resistance can be simply standing in place

Resolutely refusing to yield.

 

There is fighting with words,

Which may sound absurd,

But we all know that words can have weight

And can quickly resolve,

If all parties involved

Can put aside discord and hate.

 

But if you must fight make sure

You’re in the right and

Move forward with firmness and grit.

You may not prevail

But you surely won’t fail

Knowing, in the end, you did not quit.

 

Fright

As a child I knew where monsters lived.

They were in the closet

Or under the bed.

But I also knew that I could be safe

If I pulled the covers up over my head.

 

As a teen I found monsters

Lurking the hallways

Attempting to bully and intimidate,

But I’m a quick study and

Learned early on

Not to give in to their brand of hate.

 

Some people enjoy a hard-fast fright nightmovie

With carnage and blood and ordeal.

But I sit at ease, just as calm as youplease

For I know in my mind

That the fright isn’t real.

 

So, let us consider, and let us be clear,

And let us not fear dark of night.

The angst and the dread

That lives in our head disappears

When we turn on the light.