Dog of the North
By Nan Potts
The dog of the North, hale-hardy hound,
With large, loyal heart and ardor abound,
Hears, "call to duty" as the master's strings sound.
A spurring voice, bidding, jubilant hearts pound.
The lure of the chase and swift-speeds doth longed,
Through fair-fickled weather, ne'er grudging nor wronged,
Tails wag and tongues loll 'mongst cheering crowds, thronged,
Persist on their quest, haunting-howls, their jargon'd.
These curs of the North, slight, svelte and brawn'd
Cruise across sea-ice and frozen lake-pond,
O'er flow and deep powder to places beyond,
Through night until day and a new morning, dawned.
Age-old narrations portray their travails
Of survival and courage, their blood-line prevails.
This dog of the North, with no trivial tales,
Delights in the risks, runs the Iditarod trails.
"Mad Smatter"
By Ann Lyons
Webster says:
Matter: Is something
That is being done,
Something talked about
Or something thought about.
One look on the internet
For the subject matter states
Health matters, Cooking matters
Media matters, Housing matters
Commercials, say even your car.
It seems it matters
Every race in the rainbow
They all matter
Hands up, Fist up, Flags up, Flags down
Peaceful protest should matter
History repeats itself
Surely that should matter
Protest, is a right that we have
Shouldn’t that matter?
Right to own guns
Constitution says it matters
My generation didn’t own slaves
Shouldn’t that matter?
Time should heal wounds
That should matter
First responders and veterans
They should matter
My generation honored the flag
Shouldn’t that matter?
We pledged to that flag
Shouldn’t that matter?
We had God in that pledge
Shouldn’t that matter?
Hands over our heart
Should not that matter?
Prayer in the school
That should’ve mattered.
The Golden rule,
That too should matter.
Do well unto others,
Surely should matter.
Our rights can be taken away
Shouldn’t that matter?
Hands up to God
That IS what matters.
Spirit of the Eagle
Contributed by Brenda L. Stinnett
My journey winds through twists and turns.
There are dark tunnels with no light in sight...
Then cloudless days, brilliant with sunshine.
Snow capped mountains crystal clear.
With a slight cool breeze and an eagle soaring near.
Some say life is the paths you decide to take.
Roads of decisions and choices to make.
The highest mountains and low dark valleys.
I take it in and breathe in and sigh.
When I'm low in the valley I have streams to sit by.
And breathe in peace.
I call it my journey.
As a field of daisies caught my eye that summer day.
I was so in awe by the splendor,
that I lay in the grass to rest and pray. As I gazed up to the sky
the eagle flew by.
He glanced my way and soared as to say, it's all good for me too.
This glorious summer day.
As I stood to find my path
I stumble upon a rock.
And pain tore through my leg.
I fell down at last.
An angry woodsman came up to me.
He began to scold me for not wearing proper shoes.
My ankle, Like my heart in my chest, was broken.
As I look in his face.
It held coldness and vile contempt.
I no longer saw the daisies in the grass full of beauty.
Instead I felt a cloud cover my spirit
with sadness from his cruelty.
Then my path back to the road was not very far.
As I looked up to the trees I saw the eagle that once soared.
His wise old eyes caught mine in an understanding look.
Later on as I looked to the ground beneath the tree branches,
I saw the eagle.
He was caught in a snare by the foot.
Oh how confusing life can be...
Just to be at peace..
And just to be free.