A Mother’s Peace During Pandemic

Don’t worry if you’re out of work!

For staying home is its own damned perk.

Pandemics run their course in time,

and soon, you’ll earn another dime.

Don’t worry if you’re out of work, this world’s a crazy place!

If you live in a state of fear, well, join the human race.

So take a break and try to rest; money comes and goes.

“Beauty from ashes will rise once more,” says the mother to the rose.

Coronavirus here and there, Coronavirus everywhere!

Those without food while farmers bury needed produce is very scary.

But, don’t worry if you’re out of food, for food just comes and goes.

“Clean water first, to quench your thirst,” says the mother to the rose.

This seems to be an age of death

while everybody holds their breath.

Yet, fighting in Afghanistan

continues with the Taliban.

In Africa, there’s kids to feed while online hairstylists meet a need

for those who want a nice hairdo while stuck in lock-down, feeling blue.

Don’t worry if your hair looks bad, for hair just comes and goes.

“You’re beautiful no matter what,” says the mother to the rose.

Of ventilators, Trump says he’s king yet he can’t do a single thing

to stop a New York doctor die by her own choice, and so I sigh.

Don’t worry if the system fails, a system comes and goes.

“You’ve survived for centuries,” says the mother to the rose.

Democracies, Republicans, Benevolent Dictators

are just like hungry baby sharks, or just like alligators.

We all need education, and who does not like testing?

History repeats itself, and now’s a time for resting!

Be nice to children and your wife, don’t fill your house with stress and strife.

Be kind and sweet, cut down on meat, think of those stuck on the street.

Don’t worry if you can’t help all, for help just comes and goes.

“You’ll always have a garden,’ says the mother to the rose.

In Florida, Big George made certain that children stayed behind the curtain

lest they become that gator’s food. Some backyard pets just are not good!

Don’t worry if you’re terrified for fear just comes and goes.

“Every creature has value,” says the mother to the rose.

Science versus God again; the weak are filled with fear.

The World Tomorrow is at our door. Repent! The King is here!

The Queen is right behind him, brewing like a storm.

So, keep your children safe inside, keep them safe from harm.

There’s earthquakes, floods and fires, pestilence and liars,

Catastrophes, pandemics, and higher academics.

Don’t worry ‘bout tomorrow, tomorrow comes and goes.

“Today has enough cares of it’s own,” says the mother to the rose.

The Queen? She likes her crumpets, her scones, and Earl Grey.

She tells us all to remain calm, be civilized, and pray.

Don’t worry ‘bout those strangers, a stranger comes and goes.

“Everyone should love you,” says the mother to the rose.

The poverty in Africa still cries out in the streets,

while those who live in plenty dream beneath their sheets.

You cannot have too many flowers of the earth.

For every child’s a miracle, just like every birth.

Fake news runs through the whole damned world, just like a rapid fire.

Yet, what is true is true for you, while prices just rise higher.

Don’t worry ‘bout your family, a family comes and goes.

“Blood is thicker than water,” says the mother to the rose.

The cost of human rights is dear, the news of death is tragic.

I’ll put my faith in God above, I’ll put my faith in magic.

Don’t put your faith in money, money comes and goes.

“Money can’t buy happiness,” says the mother to the rose.

I’ll put my faith in Mother Earth, I’ll put my faith in art.

I’ll put my faith masks and gowns, and those who have a heart.

I’ll put my faith in sunshine, in animals, and trees.

I’ll put my faith in mercy while we’re all brought to our knees.

If everyone said, “thank you,” and honored one another.

Stop playing games and laying blames while destroying your own mother.

Don’t blame a mom for loving you, a mother comes and goes.

“Some day you’ll understand me,” says the mother to the rose.

I’m not a fan of politics or any politician.

And, Hilary Clinton’s hairdo needs help from a beautician!

Don’t worry about the critic, a critic comes and goes.

“I’ve been criticized too harshly,” says the mother to the rose.

Building antibodies takes lots of self-immunity,

I’m anti-war, and like long hair on men in my community.

Tolerant moderation of ignorance at work

is much like a stubborn asshole calling a donkey a jerk.

To fight a war with flowers, instead of a gun or a bomb,

To turn our swords to plowshares is a dream of this old mom.

Don’t worry about your dreams; a dream just comes and goes.

“Create a better tomorrow,” says the mother to the rose.

But, I am just a dreamer with my head stuck in old books

and in my past of long ago, before I learned of crooks.

Don’t worry about the criminals, for crime just comes and goes.

“It’s not a crime to have loved and lost,” says the mother to the rose.

The war of roses rages on, the red, the white, the yellow,

in the garden of the destitute who use violence against their fellow.

Impoverished countries sing against Corona and the crown;

they risk their lives, they burn their wives, while they tear their country down.

The war of roses rages on, the red, the white, the blue

in the families of America, where human rights are few.

Don’t worry about your human rights, a right just comes and goes.

“You have the right to live in peace,” says the mother to the rose.

And, yet, we carry on…one nation under God.

We worry about our hair, our face, and losing our sexy bod.

Don’t worry about what’s temporal, life just comes and goes.

“I’ll always love my babies,” says the mother to the rose.

We worry about our children’s lives, we worry about their health.

We worry about their futures, and if money equals wealth.

We worry about tomorrow, we worry about gray hair

We long to hug our children again as we sit in our rocking chair.

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