A Touch of Winter Air

Exotic air falls cool into my chest,

A torrent sweeping deep beneath my heart;

Swift chilling passages with icy zest,

And stilling sudden gasps before they start.

Although I love the thrill of bracing air,

My face may welcome just a touch of frost;

My heart prefers a warmer berth down there,

And not a wintry bed it must defrost.

As I consider, momentarily,

A thought of venturing further outside,

A rasping cough reminds me instantly,

It’s time for me to run inside and hide.

And back into the house I must repair --

To rally from a touch of winter air.

Mick McKellar

November 2017

Every year, I have to learn the same lesson -- my lungs and cold air don’t get along well.

Mick

The Price of Silence

Sunlight dapples darkling streams,
As days morph into nights,
And we mourn our missing dreams --
The loss of basic rights.

Silently we watch them go,
We utter not a cry.
We do not resist the flow,
We do not say: “Goodbye.”

We do not believe our eyes;
We think our ears heard wrong.
When we hear the blatant lies,
We meekly go along.

We watch people full of fear
And hate believe the lie;
Watch as freedoms we hold dear
Are snatched away to die.

We watch as democracy,
The oligarchs will steal;
Patently refuse to see,
The silent coup is real.

We watch a clown dance about;
We laugh at ev’rything,
Till the richest use their clout,
To make that clown our king.

Those who don’t need further wealth,
To satisfy their greed,
Find that money can’t give health.
You can’t eat it in need.

When they die, as we all must,
The legacy they’ll leave:
Piles of poison, trash, and rust;
As silent millions grieve.

This awful scenario;
This dreadful image stands,
If we simply let it go.
If we sit on our hands.

Mick McKellar
November 2017

History tells me that I should be concerned.

Mick

Sing of Creation

Find your joy in the work of the makers,

The creators of wonder and beauty.

Whose genesis is life for the takers;

Whose lives harbor little but duty.

Find your peace in the thundering sunlight,

Of the warm, wondrous glow of the dawning.

Soft, dispelling the darkness of midnight,

With the bright, urgent promise of morning.

Find your hope in the song of the living,

Their sweet harmonies touching your spirit,

With bright melodies sung about giving,

Sing so loudly the whole world will hear it!

Let hope sing the music of elation.

Let peace bring the magic of creation.

Mick McKellar

November 2017

It’s time to sing for the makers.
 
Mick