A Nobel Christmas Wish

A Nobel Christmas Wish

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

‘Twas a time before Christmas, and all through the House
Not a member was stirring, not even to rouse,
A word of complaint, of question or more,
For the Award hailed from Norway, that was given to Gore.

For Global emission, he’s worked for demise,
And the Nobel commission, they gave him the prize.
But did he deserve it? Of course they said so,
The Earth–he’d preserve it, and peace would follow.

But how could the climate, bring war and unrest?
And if some deny it, why does he protest?
For tyrants and schemers, attack not with snow,
And mis-taken dreamers, have the right to say no.

So if the those that handle, the trophy for peace,
Serenity’s candle, of conflict surcease,
Are giving it out, to Hollywood’s boy,
Does it amount, to a ‘Pop Culture’ toy?

When many are dying, and tortured, and tried,
In courts full of lying, with freedoms denied,
Do we do honor, to those who are there,
Who’ve fought for a lifetime, in lands of despair?

Do we do right, to the ones that have bled,
Who’ve experienced the blight, of the wronged and the dead?
To those thrown in prison, for speaking against,
A dictator risen, and boldly incensed.

For it’s those on the benches, who give only speeches,
That aren’t in the trenches, on battlefield beaches.
They’re all about, their Lear Jets and Hummers,
And are given to pout, if the fine wines are bummers.

They rant and they rave, for the poor, so they say,
For them that are slave, to the working man’s way.
They speak words of ladies, in rags torn and scarlet,
Then drive their Mercedes, to dine with a starlet.

With Christmas now looming, we look to the One,
Who suffered the dooming, of a world long undone.
A world ever needy, of a savior of souls,
With hearts only greedy, for frivolous goals.

So when we devise, who gets awards noble,
Let us be wise, looking not towards the global,
Not to those bleating, of weather and waves,
Who’ve nary a beating, from cowardly knaves,

But give to the bleeding, the hurting, the bloody,
That tend to the treating, of the tattered and muddy,
Who don’t seek the pleasure, of mansions and more,
Who don’t hold as treasure, the stock market’s soar.

Let us recall, what peace is about,
The One known to all, Himself was without.
No jewels did he wear, ‘cept a crown bearing thorns,
He gave us His care, we gave Him but scorns.

Let us remember, His sacrifice,
And in this December, refuse such a vice,
As gifts to the wealthy, who’ve never known poor,
With bank accounts healthy, like rich old Al Gore.

Keck