Bad mouths Bad words Sick of them Ridicule Nah
In the old neighborhood Ms Martha owns an old stone home The grandest made of granite and s… Tall white pillars Long wide windows and
Upon the mountaintop In my efforts —to reach the heavens —To touch the skies God listens
In the distance Dogs bark In an instance As trees weave in the breeze Casting long creeping shadows
Hawks say no Jones in I don’t want x wife Lost love Fading into
God whispering in a seashell Beside the wishing well Beneath the skies Where seagulls dwell The forces of nature
The river has run dry No fruit upon the vine Creatures abounding in the heat, caves and valleys discreet Nothing left to do
Jestures of love And light Lights of Twilight Moonlit nights
Growing tired As the sun dips into the sea Growing tired Autumn leaves Falling from the trees
Perched upon a branch. High in the jungle trees Toucan Sam When darkness looms Nothing sees
Within the confines Of tortured souls Ancient lies Fester
Veiled dark skies Sullen damp forests’ Foggy breath sans sunlight
Oil leaks and elbow grease Men at work Tuesdays through the week Thursday eve comes Birthing of Fridays oblique
My main squeeze Saturday afternoon Weekday bruises Never gone too soon Over yonder
Liquid Soul Liquid soul oozes thru The blues man’s tunes His Raspy bellowing voice Reverberating