Now all is calm and quiet.
Life passes on its own way.
Unruffled by unsavoury riot.
Still, no one to shout or pray.
Living, itself demands it is loud.
We have chattering noise.
Cacophony offends, does not make proud;
we outsiders are silent with our poise.
We want lives as still as a millpond.
Calmness and peace must prevail.
In deep water disturbed by fronds
of weeds, echos of a silent, siren's wail.