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Turbines Without Power
turbines tread the land and sail upon the sea;
the air becalmed,
no breeze to shift and turn the blades on high,
no surge of life to speed along the lines
the nights are cold, the snow is fresh and deep;
the air is calm,
no breeze to turn the hungry sails of power
to melt the ice that forms upon the panes
the days are hot, the sun shines without her shade;
the wind becalmed,
no breeze exists to move the iv’ry twists
and cool the masses slaving at their desks
there’s no power to surge along the lines;
the wind is calm,
no breeze to shift the blades, and drive this day
the spinning of the coils for industry
the toast is on, the kettle too, and lunch is set for twelve;
but idle is the air this day, me thinks the dish be raw.
Business men and women, impatient as they wait;
but where be the wind this day, me thinks they wait in vain.
there’s no wind out there this day
let’s hope the morrow will bring a change
or at least in the weeks to come.
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