The Seasons: A Poem

Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai

Did someone say something about fairness?

This image prompted outrage and protests implying that it was racist. Note that there is no resemblance to President Obama and he did not "write the stimulus bill."

I don't remember any outrage at this or similar cartoons. Maybe no one recognized the resemblance?

Comments

amy said…
Perfect example! Wish WSJ or some related news would publish this...but, we forget, it's perfectly okay to mock & disrespect a Republican president in any way, shape, or form.