Fifth anniversary reflections
A woman's name (a beautiful name)
that calls to mind a hurricane.
A hurricane that uglified
Katrina's aim (her deadly aim)
meant life would never be the same.
Katrina's wake rocked joy to sleep
and robbed her of sweet dreams.
Five years ago (long years ago)
the levies failed. I'm sure you know.
The perfect storm of shifted blame
betrayed the suffering.
And New Orleans (old New Orleans),
the Mississippi's reigning queen,
watched as her subjects fled or begged
or floated dead face-down.
But love reached out (Christ's own reached out).
There never was a shred of doubt
that Jesus' call to rebuild hope
was heard in every state.
We watched in awe (amazing awe)
as those obeying mercy's law
descended on the Big Easy
and tackled hard demands.
And on this anniversary (this somber anniversary)
it hauntingly occurs to me
that those who lived and those who died
deserve our thoughts today.
Sal Manila and His Thugs
Why McMuffin's crying "fowl!"
Over easy? Well, not quite.
This egg-scare is no joke.
Ol' Sal Manila and his thugs
have tainted countless yolks.
Our morning meal's been tampered with.
McMuffin's up in arms.
To save his bacon he must find
a way to cure what's harmed.
What's poached, soft-boiled, fried or baked
is making people sick.
Let's hope the FDA police
can catch Manila quick.
The scare's not over. Far from it.
But we all can hope
that what is wrong can be made right
with each and every yolk.