USA * * * USA * * * USA

45 - 47

© 2024 by Dominic Spano

Affluence was his pedigree,

Yet he was common folk;

He claimed to be for you and me,

The swamp said he’s a joke.

There was no need for him to run,

Secure and affluent;

But our country had become undone,

Tainted red from where it went.

Resentment sprouted far and near,

From words he never minced;

“Mean tweets” was code for swampy fear,

Yet many were convinced.

But Donald fought and persevered,

And people he won over,

His feisty courage was revered

At home and the world over.

Since Ronald left in ’88,

Our Party’s lived a lie;

Now Donald wants to make it great,

Refusing to say ‘die’.

The media labeled him a threat,

Launched attack after vile attack;

But he was proving hard to get

For the people had his back.

So the media, on this man they trod

And caused him misery,

But truth or fate or Hand of God

Looked after D-J-T.

And here we are in ’24

With fears for ’25

Our culture, faith and so much more

Wonder ‘Lord, can I survive?’

Attacks, abuse and litigation

And even sniper’s shot

Can’t quell his drive to save our nation,

Thus far it’s been for naught.

This time our vote mustn’t be in vain,

And wrong must bow to right;

We’ll Make America Great Again,

We’re going to ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’

So keep on fighting, 45,

For our land, so Blessed by Heaven;

The ‘Free and Brave’ remains alive

Now that you’re 47.

  © 2017 by Dominic Spano
 

The day I first felt mama's touch
I knew I'd owe her, oh so much!
Day after day, her love unfurled
And formed the canvas for my world.
She asked for nothing back from me,
'Cept "Love me, son", occasionally.

I got to know my mama well,
She'd grown up hard, she'd seen some hell;
Her faith was strong and paved the way,
It got her through each passing day.
With me in tow, she forged ahead,
"Just love me, son," was all she said.

She wore her heart upon her sleeve
In order that I might believe
In whom she was and whence I came,
So I'd learn to respect her name,
Which carried hope and stood for pride
And things for which some good folks died.

As time marched on, she watched me grow,
And still her eyes retained the glow
Of one who toiled endlessly
To give me rights and liberty;
I don't recall an angry word,
"Just love me, son," is all I heard.

She learned, she said, through her mistakes,
Through tears and pain and some heartaches;
But mama took them all in stride,
Said no event should be denied,
That every single incident
Defined her life, without lament.

My mama sacrificed for me,
Devoting boundless energy,
To raise me good, to raise me right,
Not see the world as black or white,
To look for meaning deep within,
To persevere through thick and thin.

"When times get tough," she said to me,
"Be careful, son, of what you see.
Don't let life get the best of you;
Respect yourself and others too.
Be fair, be kind as you can be;
In loving them, you're loving me."

"In bleakest night, when the soul bleeds,
Is when Our Dear Lord intercedes,
So that you won't go too far wrong,
So you'll emerge both free and strong."
With mama's words as daily bread,
"Just love me, son," rang through my head.

We woke to find, one fateful day,
That infamy had come our way,
Some of us were living well
While some of us were put through hell.
My mama, who had asked for naught,
Deserved much better than she got,

For many in our family
Were longing dearly to be free;
Blood–stained tears bred tear–stained strife
To give our brothers back their life.
We fought in love for liberty,
That you and I could become we.

My mama's faith remained real strong
Because she'd taught us right from wrong.
"Do not let this be your demise,
Don't let a stain metastasize."
Those words from mama, right on cue,
She uttered in red, in white and blue.

She told me not to yield to fate
And went on to re–iterate:
"Do not let anyone betray
The ideals in our DNA,
For in despair, dark and obscene,
The light of hope is clearest seen."

And in due time, I came to know
Why mama rarely told us "no".
The gifts she gave to us, you see,
Come from our birthright to be free.
Bestowed on us by Divine Deed
Regardless of our race or Creed.

And when, at times, we've gone astray,
And lost ourselves along the way,
When hope, it seemed, was all but gone,
The Lord sent us an Abe or John,
A Teddy, Ronald, George, or Franklin,
Andrew, Thomas, Ben or Martin.

These men were mama's children too,
Their mark is seen on me and you;
Like me, they felt my mama's touch,
Although she never asked for much.
From time to time, she'd merely say:
"Just love me, son, I'll be okay."

I promised never to betray
The gifts my mama sends my way,
Some of which are in disguise,
So that I might recognize
The blessings mama left for me
Are the most difficult to see.

For without sadness, what is joy?
Does turmoil not make strength deploy?
Could love appear, if not for hate?
Does fear bring courage to the gate?
Shame gives rise to introspection,
And sin to reconciliation.

So when my eyes grow tired and dim,
I hope to sing my mama's hymn,
The one she sang from time to time,
Those lonely words, yet so sublime.
I hope she knows her little kid
Grew up to love her—always did. 

  © 2019 by Dominic Spano
 

A bullet flies, a life is torn,
A spouse and child are left to mourn
A memory that can never wane,
A broken feather in the rain.
Gleaming buttons slowly fade,
Like the life and price it paid,
Nevermore to soar again,
A broken feather in the rain.

A childhood dream of long ago:
A little boy with eyes aglow,
A little girl wraps daddy's neck
In two arms destined to protect
The lives of those she holds so dear,
To keep them safe and free from fear.
That little boy with eyes so blue
Would come to see the world anew,
For children never quite foresee
Folks think in terms of 'I' and 'me'.

And then that proud day finally came
To wear a badge above her name;
Her little arms, now strong and brave,
Still long to serve, protect and save;
The cap he wears to shield his eyes
Filters trust worn in disguise;
They woke, it seems, to find, one day,
The world they loved began to fray,
The world they'd known was upside down,
In every city, in every town;
And still they fight and persevere,
To keep folks safe and free from fear.

Another one was lost today
For who knows why—none dares to say.
Where innocence once sought the sky,
A jaded soul now heaves a sigh:
'I stand for you so you'll be free,
Oh how I wish you'd stand with me.
A broken feather in the night
Has come to take me to the light
A broken feather in the night
Is going to keep me in the fight.'

That little boy we held so dear
Whose glowing eyes did not know fear
That little girl of long ago,
Whose feelings ebb and sometimes flow,
Now ride for you, out on patrol,
They give their heart, they bare their soul,
Their eyes, which once wore proud and brave
Do now Stand sentry to a grave.
The sky's perennially streaked with grey,
They wonder 'Will this be the day?'

A broken feather in the rain
Lies alone but free from pain
The majesty it once conveyed
No longer means much—a price was paid.
The lullaby it sang on high
Gave way to a hollow, mournful sigh,
A sigh that asks, 'was it in vain,
Oh broken feather in the rain?'

In the sky that once was bright and blue,
Now vast and bright for someone new.
A young and optimistic plume,
Juxtaposed from womb to tomb,
Until a cloud turns blue skies grey
And brings another fateful day
That plucks a feather from the sky,
Unjustly chosen, plucked to die,
A hero set to meet with harm,
While aching heart and weary arm
Bends respectfully yet again—
Two broken feathers in the rain.

Innocence once sought the moon,
But lost its childhood much too soon.
The firmament, once its Domain,
Gave way to thunder and to rain.
No rainbow can we ever see
'til 'I and me' are 'us and we'.
The little boy and girl in blue
Still fight for me, still fight for you
If they do not come home again,
We've both used up our time in vain.

A childhood dream of long ago--

A dying ember, still aglow,

A broken feather from on high
Endures, too proud to ever die;

Its spirit lingers and lives on,

It prods, inspires, though she is gone.
A broken feather in the rain,

Her wounds are never borne in vain.

Oh broken feather in the rain,

A broken heart endures your pain;

A broken feather in the rain
Returns to take me home again.
A broken feather in the rain,
I know it hasn't been in vain.