by Moira Deslandes04 Jun 2017
My grandson is the reason my vote is cast
His smile warms me with its glow
I nail his colours to my mast
And sail the ship: Promise to Tomorrow.
He fingers beads around my neck
And roars like a dinosaur.
We’re using his cards in our deck
Squandering each day more and more.
Gender, race and class
– the great dividing range.
Has left me wanting, waiting –
For sweet love to reign.
Go with a child in your heart
And horizon in your head
Only love decisions must be made – else
Our planet will be dead.