'May' and 'Might'

Ianthe Pickels

Reveal peaked world, through fertile ‘May’
Uncertain blossom, in these times of ‘Might’
Undecided, or overwhelming, who could say?
How is it, meanings lose their sight?
Hope? or possibility? Then Tyrant? power? lead the way
Rainbow ribbons whirling into white.

Today, we writhe to rhythms of the day,
Find means to carve, connect, delight,
Whilst rulers drag their feet through clay,
Lives, blown, fragile as frail kites.

Lost beings, whim to ‘yay’ or ‘nay’...
As sirens scream from morn ‘til night,
And politicians nod and bray,
We struggle through our Nation’s blight.
Birth blessings, spirit songs, spring forth as people pray,
Soil’s sadness turns, and shields, to fix Earth’s plight.

Ian the Pickels taught for 37 years. Now, retired, in Liverpool, and has one son. A Writing Group with an inspirational teacher, generated short stories, and poetry – a tidy way of questioning messy situations.