Poem:

It’s not lost –

that inexpendable blessing,

of freedom in

the good, old U.S.A.

Now and then

a frustrating

gloom runs across 

the infinite space

of human endeavors,

but it’s not lost,

only blown around

in the rumbles of

doubt and uncertainty,

yet manifesting

continuing hope and

prayerful devotion

to freedom.

It’s not lost:

freedom in the good, old

U.S.A.