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Upon the Fearless Wind Democracy Lost



Upon The Fearless Wind

Poem by Mary Margaret Park

the tide ebbs and flows

drawn by the princess moon

and time stands by


in a cascade of silver hues


men’s dreams rise and fall

upon the fearless wind

as years steal the 


from the hours they have to spend


if notes are word and deed

the song of tomorrow is in its creation

and the prize is in its composition


the lives of sea and sky

are tethered by the air

our eyes contrive horizons

the mind believes are there



the image seen not really there

from eyes of truth we don’t perceive

fooling our eyes in what is seen

with false perceptions that fool the eye

we see yon horizon

yet sky and land will never meet


our mind’s perspective creates the view

our world’s exist

where illusion meets belief

we foster magic in the hours

of our youth

with the wisdom of old age

we understand the truth


Democracy Lost

 Poem by Mary Margaret Park

uncertain virtue

democracy lost

changing the future

freedom’s the cost


street corner speeches

folks singing the blues

warriors for rights

out parceling truths


capital hill’s fists

are heavy with stones

our citizens victimized

losing their homes


masters on wall street

the new ruling breed

we’re serfs in a system

fueled by globalist greed


political forecasts

pedal lies to the blind

selling prosperity

while the dollar declines


rulers without reason

the treason of this rhyme

betrayal of a nation

the disgrace of our times


Broken Vows 

A Poem by Mary Margaret Park

within the city walls there dwells

a bustling swirl of dreams.

the searchlights creeping monsters

aglow in cold and bluest flames.

a passage to the hinterlands

a doorway it would seem

entwined in arms of rainbow 

a caesura full of cream.

tomorrow’s dead have come

to wed the center of all things.

a current adulation to the

source of humankind

to tie our thoughts to cherry blossoms 

that live along the Rheine.

a tutors mistress upon the green

to show the stars agree.

a mighty mist upon the earth

surrounding you and me.


and so the bluest blue shines bright

to lead us from the fray

into the melting pot of planets

draped across the sky

where distant lands are built of thoughts

that will never die.

a boundless road on golden threads

to grasp in eager hands

the truth forgotten that we seek

healing backwards into time.

ere modern man will neutron bomb

with simple beams of light.

0ur souls enfold in future lands

to protect us from his plight.

of spoken word, of kindest deed

a century’s pure delight.

the blackest courts and whitest nights

that enslaved our nations bow

will tumble from the greatest heights

to dream of broken vows.

The Constellations Will Follow

A Poem by Mary Margaret Park

upon the silver moon she rode

in a swirl of phantom dreams

the stars beckoned with her passage

reflecting greatness that they’d seen


she was alone and feeling weary

so didn’t notice them at all

blinded by past failures

she’d given up, would let them fall


ill fortune had been her siren song

and she’d sung it very well

but yesterday’s ruins were receding

her broken heart could finely heal


mother, son, and daughter

are the radiance of the sun

lover, friend, and father 

won’t let us falter, come undone


our course is true and righteous

we do not heed deception’s drum

the constellations will follow now

for the journey’s just begun

Image by  Jeremy Thomas 

Broken Vows The Constellations Will Follow
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