The Election 

The Election will come, the Election will go,
Promises made, but what will they show?
Will we be better off, or lost in the fray,
As leaders rise, then fade away?

Voices will shout, banners will wave,
But is it progress or just a charade?
Change on the horizon, or more of the same,
Who will we trust, and who’s to blame?

The Election will come, and soon it will pass,
Leaving us asking how long it will last.
Will hope be restored, or doubts still grow?
Will we be better off? Only time will know.

Created by
MarkWaldrop

A Strange Old Lady

A strange old lady has moved in with me,  
I can't quite place who she could be.
I never invited her, that's for sure,
One day she appeared, a sly saboteur.

She hides in shadows, she’s stealthy and keen,
But in the mirror, she’s always seen.
When I check my reflection, there she stands,
Obliterating my face with her wrinkled hands!

I've shouted at her, screamed in despair,
But she just yells back with a devilish glare.
She won't pay the bills or share the rent,
Yet my cash is mysteriously spent.

She raids my fridge, my sweet stash is gone,
And somehow she’s making the scale turn wrong!
I swear she fiddles with all my attire,
My clothes shrink up as she conspires.

She messes with papers, my files a mess,
And blurs all my reading, I
must confess.
The TV mumbles, the phone whispers low,
She’s twisted the volume as part of her show.

The stairs are steeper, the bed's too high,
She glued down the jars, oh how hard I try!
Shopping for clothes? Forget the fun,
She hogs the mirror and spoils the run.

But worst of all, when the camera flashed,
She jumped in front—my photo trashed.
This old lady’s crafty, clever, and sly,
I just hope she never stops by *your* eye!

Created by
MarkWaldrop

My Vote

If the person I vote for doesn’t win,  
I believe in tomorrow, where hope begins.
For in the ebb and flow of days,
There's always light in future ways.

A single loss is not the end,
For time will heal, and hearts will mend.
New voices rise, new dreams take flight,
And through the dark, we find the light.

Though outcomes may not go my way,
I trust in what the dawn will say.
For every season has its turn,
And through it all, we live and learn.

So if today my choice may fall,
I believe tomorrow will still call.
In faith, I plant tomorrow’s seed,
For hope remains in every deed.

Created by
MarkWaldrop

A Day to Remember

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Let us honor those we lost,  
On that fateful September day,
By renewing our faith in each other,
And finding hope along the way.

We commit to a unity strong,
Where love outshines the darkest night,
Where hearts are bound in courage,
And we rise together in the fight.

We never forget the fallen,
Their memories etched in stone,
Their sacrifice forever with us,
Their legacy our own.

We are never afraid to stand,
Though the storm may rage and roar,
For in the face of every trial,
We find strength to endure once more.

We endure through tears and sorrow,
Through the ashes of our pain,
For we are a people resilient,
Who rise and rise again.

We overcome what seeks to break,
With hands held firm and true,
For we are the United States,
And there is nothing we can’t do.

So let us remember and renew,
With faith, with love, with grace,
For we are one, unshaken,
A mighty and enduring place.

September 11, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop

A Woodpecker’s Tale

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In the quiet woods where shadows fall,  
A woodpecker's tale begins to call,
To the task at hand with patient care,
Finding a tree that stands tall and fair.

The deadwood trunk, a hollowed prize,
Beneath the gaze of autumn skies,
Becomes the canvas, rough and true,
For a winter's feast in every hue.

With careful beak and measured pace,
The woodpecker starts to carve its place,
Each hole a cradle, snug and tight,
Neither too large nor small in height.

Too wide, the thieves would have their way,
Too small, the bounty would decay,
So, in between, with master’s hand,
The woodpecker crafts a storage grand.

Summer's end, the work complete,
The ripened acorns, smooth and sweet,
Are tucked within the wooden walls,
In secret chambers, nature’s halls.

Fifty thousand, a mighty store,
The woodpecker's winter—famine no more.
And as the cold winds start to sing,
The bird will rest, content with spring.

A testament to patience, skill,
And nature’s will in seasons still,
The woodpecker's legacy, so fine,
Is etched in bark, a steadfast sign.

Created by
MarkWaldrop

Save the Wolves

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In shadows deep, where wild winds sigh,
A pack emerges, howls to the sky.
We are the guardians, hearts unchained,
To save the wolves, our spirits trained.

In forests dense and mountains high,
We hear their calls, their mournful cry.
With strength and grace, they roam the night,
A symbol of nature’s ancient might.

Our small band, with hearts so bold,
A tale of love and care unfolds.
To repopulate, to save, to mend,
These noble creatures, our dearest friends.

We bring them food, we bring them cheer,
To keep them safe, to keep them near.
No hunter’s snare, no poacher’s game,
Shall dim their light, or taint their name.

For in their eyes, a world we see,
Of wild and free, of destiny.
With every step, with every breath,
We stand against their threatened death.

Together strong, we forge our way,
To brighter nights and safer days.
A promise made, a vow to keep,
To guard the wolves, awake, asleep.

So let the world hear our refrain,
A song of hope, amidst the rain.
For we, the pack, shall always strive,
To keep the spirit of wolves alive.

July 7, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop

The 13 Colony Contest

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In July's embrace, the airwaves come alive,
From July first to seventh, hams strive,
A celebration of history and the thrill,
Of the thirteen colonies' spirit and will.

From New York’s echo to Virginia’s call,
Special stations rise, one for all,
K2A to K2M, their voices soar,
Across the ether, tales of yore.

On HF, VHF, UHF bands they play,
In CW, SSB, and digital display,
Operators gather, young and old,
In a contest of stories retold.

Certificates await those who seek,
Thirteen callsigns, unique and sleek,
QSL cards, a treasure to behold,
In the hands of those, brave and bold.

A bonus station here, another there,
WM3PEN and GB13COL's flair,
Reminders of allies and history’s friends,
In this contest, where learning blends.

The 13 Colonies, a test of might,
Connecting the past with signals bright,
Promoting the hobby, a bond so true,
Uniting operators, old and new.

So tune your radios, set your gear,
For the 13 Colony Contest is here,
A week of challenge, joy, and quest,
In the spirit of ham radio’s best.

Created by
MarkWaldrop

The Old Rusty Hand Pump

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In the quiet shade of yesteryears,
Where childhood dreams reside,
Stands an old water hand pump,
By the path where memories glide.

Its rusty handle, worn and bent,
A relic of days gone by,
Echoes of laughter, whispered tales,
Beneath a summer sky.

With every creak and groan it made,
Life's simple joys were found,
Cool, clear water, gushing forth,
From deep beneath the ground.

We'd gather 'round, our faces bright,
On sunny afternoons,
Drawing liquid treasure,
As cicadas sang their tunes.

Grandfather's stories spun like silk,
As we pumped and played,
Of times when life was slower,
And simpler games were made.

Now, in the heart of busy days,
Those moments softly call,
The old water hand pump's song,
A balm to soothe it all.

For in its gentle, rhythmic flow,
Lie dreams that never fade,
The echoes of a childhood,
In the memories it made.

June 19, 2023
Created by
MarkWaldrop

Justice Holds

Do the crime and pay the time,
A truth that stands through every clime,
Whether the most influential man,
Or poorest pauper in the land.

Justice holds a steady course,
Unyielding in its moral force,
For wealth and power cannot sway,
The laws that guide both night and day.

In gilded halls or humble streets,
This rhyme resounds, its truth repeats,
For actions done must face the light,
In darkest hours or broad daylight.

No gold can buy a conscience clear,
Nor poverty a heart sincere,
The scales of justice, firm and blind,
Weigh every soul, each heart and mind.

Through ages past and those to come,
This principle remains a sum,
Of human acts and consequence,
A universal recompense.

Do the crime and pay the time,
A timeless rule, a steadfast rhyme,
In justice, we are all the same,
Bound by honor, truth, and name.

June 11, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop

Let Us Remember

FRANCE – JUNE 01: World War II. Normandy landings. American reinforcements landing from barges at Utah-Beach (Manche) to deploy towards Cherbourg, June 1944. (Photo by Roger Viollet/Getty Images)
On Normandy's shores, where history was made,
Brave souls in the dawn's first light arrayed.
Eighty years have passed since that fateful day,
Yet their courage and sacrifice never fade away.

Let us remember those who stormed the beach,
Their valor and bravery beyond our reach.
But also the medics and chaplains who cared,
In the midst of chaos, they bravely dared.

With bandages, prayers, and comforting hands,
They brought hope and healing to war-torn lands.
Families of these heroes, in our hearts, you remain,
Your loved ones' service was not in vain.

We ask for prayers, for strength and grace,
For those who faced war's grim embrace.
May their legacy of kindness and love,
Shine down on us from the heavens above.

On this 80th year, we honor and pray,
For the medics and chaplains of that historic day.
Their selfless acts in the darkest of times,
Echo through the ages, in our hearts, they chime.

Created by
MarkWaldrop