Total Eclipse

Listen close in springtime gardens; hear

A murmur soft of whispers late at night,

The love duet of voices drawing near,

More dulcet song than any tunesmith's write-

The perfect blending hum of dark and light,

A sprinkling treble chime and throbbing bass.

The words tonight will be tomorrow's delight,

She watches for the moment he awakes,

Shaking sleep to see, as daylight breaks,

Her face; she peeks to catch his first sighs

And bring him round with kisses and embrace,

Her sweetful love to last until she dies.

But now the echo of lips brushing lips,

Love blocking noise in total eclipse.

I'm Too Dirt Poor

I'm too dirt poor

But not been raped

It's too my choice

To try escape

The bill's in court

And should have passed

The Vazquez veto

Breathed its last

With three-fifths more

For women's rights

And fewer kids

In dire plights

But Church is calling

For my soul

Eternal damned

Is the toll

To live on earth

The child must die

But if it did 

Then so would I

The rulers rage

And I just wait

My belly grows

My twelve-week fate

I soon will know

But if my cause

Should this time fail

It will not pause

The world is moving

On my side

And soon my country

Will decide

To raise a child

I'm too dirt poor

Disclaimer: I am in no way advocating abortion.  I saw this article on BBC News (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7724125.stm) and tried to imagine what a woman wanting an abortion in Uruguay right now is feeling.

Smog

Head bobbing

Hands beating the steering wheel

Windows down

Singing like you do in the shower

Waitin' for the light to turn green

Watchin' the cross traffic 

Zoom zoom zoom

Air guitar solo

An eighteen-wheeler pushes through the intersection,

A widening gap in front of it

And a cramped line of cars behind it

As it moves sluggishly under all that weight,

While everyone stopped at the light watches with a frown.

Head bobbing

How embarrassing...

A thick, low cloud of smoke trails behind the truck,

Slowly creeping up to ruin the clean air,

Like some greasy, sleezy brown rat,

Slinking toward the open windows,

Sniffing around the wheels.

Air guitar

Push the button

Windows up

Disgusting...

Bible Class

In class I see Your Word become alive,

No longer learning terms and facts

That help the people on earth to merely survive

In jobs and hobbies, other roles and acts.

My notes are no more covered in random sketch--

The lunch I wish I had instead of class.

Pages show my brain is prone to stretch,

My spirit filled by lasting cup and glass.

You fed me milk and kept me safe at home;

I never feared or doubted what I knew,

And in this fire I sometimes feel alone,

But know the truth will lead me close to You.

Praise to God, for faithfully guide You do,

And again and again my spirit, please, renew.