S.O.S Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The heart, a compass, spins and sways,
When storms of anger fill the days.
No quiet harbor can be found,
In shouting voices, all around.

A gentle heart, a quiet mind,
Find little peace the storms now find.
The winds of change, they howl and blow,
And seeds of worry start to grow.

The sea is rough, the waves are high,
A foolish course, with sails to fly.
When every gust a different plea,
We risk our ship, our destiny.

We need strong hands, a knowing eye,
A crew that's watched the changing sky.
To guide us safe, through troubled seas,
And bring us back to hearts at ease.

The ship of state, it tosses high,
Beneath a bruised and troubled sky.
To ride the waves with sails unfurled,
Invites disaster to the world.

The wind whips hard from every side,
And common sense is cast aside.
We need strong hands, and steady eyes,
Who know the sea, and recognize

The hidden dangers, rocks unseen,
Where shattered hopes and dreams have been.
The time is ripe, the moment near,
To find a crew that holds more dear

The values lost, the course forgot,
Before we're wrecked, and lose the lot.
SOS, a silent plea,
For change, and responsibility.

T.M.Solvang