Behold the lovely fireflies
With blinkers on they’re racing
Around the bush as twilight dies
The pretty girls they’re chasing
With beating heart she picks him out
His blinking flashers regnant
He sees her and he wants to shout
And get her quickly pregnant
Alas he never makes the claim
Though still she waits and lingers
For children, who are not to blame
Have put him on their fingers
But not to worry, lovely lass
The fireflies are swarming
Someone will find you in the grass
The summer night is warming
And yet we come to understand
That life was meant to nestle
Caressed in a warm angel’s hand
Where fireflies are special

It seems obvious, given the evidence, that the failed attempt by the willing puppets in the Obama Justice Department and Intelligence Agencies to prevent Donald Trump winning the election, was planned, orchestrated and directed by President Obama, secure in the belief that a guaranteed Hillary victory would cover all tracks. But Mr. Trump won despite all odds, and the attempt to deny victory became a bloodless coup attempt designed to remove President Trump from office, an attempt that has failed and the perps will soon be wearing cuffs. But why would Obama allow a failed attempt to deny victory morph into a criminal coup attempt? The answer may be contained in Obama’s book, Dreams From My Father.

When the night descends and the laughter ends
In the crowded music hall
And the cheering crowd chants your name out loud
As you take your curtain call
When you try to hide all the fear inside
As the emails come unsealed
And you recognize that your troubled sighs
Mean the truth has been revealed
And your puppets bold now the truth be told
Tried and failed the bloodless coup
And for doing wrong they now sing their song
And they blame it all on you
You were president, White House resident
But you wanted more it seems
You’d complete the quest to destroy the west
And attain your father’s dreams

A reading of history reveals that freedom, culture and the passage of the centuries are as elusive as slowly moving shadows upon the endless desert. Empires rise, only to disappear into the mist of time, lost to memory, as if its people and glory had never been. Disappearance without a trace is our fate, but why? And when?

It is always demographics
And the demagogue still traffics
In the blather and insanity of tripe
Asking questions, seeking answers
To the reasons for the cancers
That bedevil him and others of his type
Yet the answers are before us
Though they often tend to bore us
So we seldom pay attention to the truth
Strong democracies can weaken
When we cannot see the beacon
That is flashing right above the voting booth
It’s the people who will kill us
Changing politics will fill us
With the dread of losing all that has been built
As the leftist saturation
Turns the younger generation
Into haters all consumed by white man’s guilt
So they’ll vote to turn us over
Place us in that leftist clover
Starting mid-terms when they vote the leftists in
House impeaches, Senate votes sit
Quiet ‘til the final throat’s slit
And to history we’re just a might have been
It will happen if we let it
If too many just don’t get it
We must fight the left right now as mid-terms nears
Fight them in the streets and alleys
Fight with money, guts and rallies
If we fail then oh so quiet fall the tears

A nation has history, and culture and art
And science and rivers and streams
And people who work on the land from the start
And reach for impossible dreams
A nation has industry, cities and towns
And wheat fields uncut by the knife
And millions of kids in their caps and their gowns
All bursting to get on with life
A nation is hard working mothers and dads
Who bring up their children to care
For country and family eschewing the fads
That promise that life will be fair
That nation is ours, yes the home of the brave
Where scoundrels may sometimes take hold
We sometimes elect a slick con man or knave
And sometimes a man of pure gold
It matters not though to a nation like ours
For presidents come and they go
If followed by curses or candy and flowers
No wonder we’re loving her so

I spoke recently to my great-great-grandson, as yet unborn, and I asked what he had learned in school that day. His eyes widened as he told me what he had learned.

I love my school, great-great-grandpa
He said with great excitement
In history our teacher told
Of how the great enlightment
Came to the country long ago
When presidents still ruled us
Before they tore the statues down
And evil men still fooled us
To thinking that we were still free
With Mr. Trump’s election
But he was gone, great great grandpa
In the great deselection
By patriots who saved us all
From evil and corruption
And put in place a queen for life
Rule without interruption
My teacher said that voting gave
Us people who betrayed us
Who trampled on our sacred rights
And never once obeyed us
But now, and here his eyes flashed bright
He said his teacher’s hintin’
That next year there’s a new young queen
But still a noble Clinton