“One September morning”©

One September morning

when terrorists came knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

our American door.

Yes, they found us napping-

our skies were not so friendly

with so many people working

before the glass did shatter

one event-filled September morning.

The news was very shocking,

we found our hands were bound,

and as our heads were shaking

four planes hit the ground

one bitter September morning.

One September morning

when terrorists came knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

our American door.

The truth was quite revealing,

our worst fears realized with

the W.T.C. towers falling and

the Pentagon not fully breached…

one unforgettable September morning.

The fourth plane was flying

and though they knew their fate,

before they would be dying

Red and White stood up so bravely

one Blue September morning.

One September morning

when terrorists came knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

our American floor.

It was as the dust was rising…

worldly eyes were now upon U.S.

and the support we were seeking,

we looked for our survivors

one bleak September morning.

Blue men, Red trucks searching-

all heroes each and every one,

volunteers too with people saving,

we salute you tried and true

one grim September morning.

One September morning

when terrorists came knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

our American core.

What the terrorists not knowing,

a day or two later

just how many flags were flying-

we were galvanized shore to shore

many patriotic September mornings.

From one September morning

Americans will come knocking,

knock, knock, knocking upon

the terrorist’s door.

(This was written “then,” a poem called,”One September morning“)

“And they called the wind… “©

And they called the wind Al Qaida…

as if to control the breeze of fear,

a bridge of tears throughout the years

and the sighs of discontentment-

sheer resentment tailing the moans and groans.

The wind screams past the ears of those who

heard, shuddering, and scuttling the

dreams of freedom,

only the lingering memories

contain the refrain of patriotism-

the notes wielding the timber and vibrato

of emotions spent.

So sent by those who achieved the goal

that swallowed us whole,

and the days now longer than the days

in which the winds began.

I ran… you ran… we ran to quell the wind-

as though we could.

A Dr. Lovejoy experience, with a lasso we

roped the tornado and found

our tiger by the tail.

A turbaned whirling dervish of a devil,

dizzy from the chase,

exhausted by the thought of containing

beliefs and no relief in sight.

And they called the wind Al Qaida.

(This is written for “now,” and is more current… also in my second book (soon to come out, called,”Of eagles and ostriches”). What can I say… starving poet, it takes money to be able to do all this, doesn’t it? This is where I must thank you for your unfailing support here… and on my next days off I’ll make some changes to “my Blog roll,” to reflect this sentiment of mine for all you have done. Thanks Representative Hamilton (Rebecca).

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