Another Weekend
After one hectic week. I don't know where it went, but it sure has gone. I started my newsletter again and this week I put the second edition out. The town has been pretty ansti lately and I decided better communication was again needed.
This second edition was certainly talked about - people were asking for it before I'd finished it. I guess that is a sign that they find it interesting. Naturally there were negative comments, but you can't please everyone. I certainly can't anyway.
The cat killer has taken another cat. I do miss her, she was such a friendly cat, loved everyone - unfortunately. There is no way we can keep cats caged here. Houses are too open, and husbands too forgetful ;-)
Bandit, our dog misses her too, as she used to pep up the pace on our walks.
We and Them.
A small township's divided,
We aren't speaking again!
They feel they are God's chosen -
what's that say for Them?
We stir pots in the kitchen
huddle in a gossip's conclave,
dream of a life without Them,
isolation makes people brave.
Burdens are layered upon Them,
slandered by whispered word
so, ignorant of misdemeanour,
no disclaimer is heard.
Festering grudges and hatred
it's how all wars begin.
Fueding fuels fragile egos -
there's no way We or Them win.
Frances Mackay (c) 19-7-08
This second edition was certainly talked about - people were asking for it before I'd finished it. I guess that is a sign that they find it interesting. Naturally there were negative comments, but you can't please everyone. I certainly can't anyway.
The cat killer has taken another cat. I do miss her, she was such a friendly cat, loved everyone - unfortunately. There is no way we can keep cats caged here. Houses are too open, and husbands too forgetful ;-)
Bandit, our dog misses her too, as she used to pep up the pace on our walks.
We and Them.
A small township's divided,
We aren't speaking again!
They feel they are God's chosen -
what's that say for Them?
We stir pots in the kitchen
huddle in a gossip's conclave,
dream of a life without Them,
isolation makes people brave.
Burdens are layered upon Them,
slandered by whispered word
so, ignorant of misdemeanour,
no disclaimer is heard.
Festering grudges and hatred
it's how all wars begin.
Fueding fuels fragile egos -
there's no way We or Them win.
Frances Mackay (c) 19-7-08
posted by Frances Mackay at
11:50 PM
4 Comments:
Hi Francis,
This poem sounds like the town I live in...very much so. People that always think their right and snub their noses at people that don't...they think they are better than them.."God's chosen children" and that the other people are not "God's children"..that's the kind of dogma religion that I find very very sad for "all"..so hypocritical.
Thanks for sharing,
Blessings,
Rhi
By
Rhiannon, at 3:33 PM
What a loyal person you are rhiannon. I've been so busy looking after myself and my husband that I have not really had time to comfortably work on this site without being negative. So nice to hear from you. Thanks. Frances
By
Frances Mackay, at 1:41 AM
Ahhh, Frances. Good work. Your town sounds like my town . . . maybe every town-- sadly. Your cicil commentary is necessary. Keep it up.
By
Ruth L.~, at 6:18 AM
Small towns ....sound idyllic! Not so!
The truth is they are too small for any really healthy interaction between individuals (and or groups.)The society can be too easily influenced and divided by stronger and more determined personalities...both good and bad.
I admire your account of the upset and anguish that has hurt your community. It is good that you have the words to express your feelings ..to share and ease the angst.
By
Sandy, at 3:22 PM
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