Social Revolution

Social Revolution

I
My spouse and I began to grow our family
And determined to teach responsibility
to the children as they grew to maturity.
All should live in financial security.

So, when John and Sally came home from school
Doing their homework was just the first rule.
Then, they did their chores without any sass;
Saturday they cleaned house and mowed the grass.

When Johnny finished his chores and tried to write
We scolded and sent him into the bright sunlight.
It wasn't good to sit around all day
He needed to go outside to work or play.

And when Sally fired up the computer
We felt being outdoors would better suit her.
And so it was, each and every day
The children would work and then outside play.

II
The country's schools had a terrible start
National tests claimed that students weren't too smart.
And, so, administrators, with their cold hearts
Cut from the schools' program music and the arts.

I was listening to my music one day
reading poetry; but then, my mind would stray
"Where's the modern Beethoven and others of class?"
An inner voice said, "Beethoven is cutting the grass."

I fell asleep, suddenly I was dreaming
I went to heaven with its lights astreaming
"Gatekeeper, where's all the poets gone?" "Alas",
Said he, "Beethoven's out cutting the grass."

III
There, a gloomy garden with roses dying,
where sat the three muses, sobbing and crying.
"What means this sorrow and what has come to pass?"
"Beethoven plays with us no more; but cuts grass."

The music died, the poems sing no more,
to lift humanity from their burdens sore.
Heaven's rays astreaming no longer reach Earth
The poor muses play no more and all is dearth.

Row upon row of houses with grassy yard lots;
Acres and acres of perfectly cut plots.
Each a monument to productivity
Practicality starving creativity.

Family after family were like mine
Child after child in inspirational decline.
Countless Muses crying over the sad impasse;
Beethovens and Beethovens cutting the grass.

Humanity had traded its poem and song
for meticulous neatness; this is so wrong.
The faultless houses and grass crushes with demand
Unlike poems and song that helps people stand.

IV
I awoke with a start, jumped up from my bower
I ran to the mower and shut off its power.
I rushed John to the house; gave him paper and pen
And Beethoven began his mind to open.

I rescued Sally from the loaded kitchen sink
Sat her at the computer, asked her to think
of what the Muses might want her to write.
And Beethoven began to type her insight.

My spouse stared at me in utter dismay
She cried out, "What is it with you this day?"
"Honey, do you remember the poem you wrote?
By your beauty and words my heart was smote."

She listened as I spoke my piece and agreed
And then we changed our goals to meet the need.
The chores now balanced with inspiration time;
We plant roses where the joyful Muses rhyme.

-William