My rusty convertible In her daze gleamed of a scorchiin… Whilst by the rain she suffered Her oily paint slowly she shed Now she lies within the gates
Moonrise and Sunsets in New hues Beaches awash with New blues
En Route En route’ Life aint nothing But a Traffic jam
Congos Indian drums Circular rhythm in the air Beats collide Upon the grass fields
Over haystacks and cornfields The sun’s Slow Rise Within of all her brightness
Jumped through the hulahoop The hole in zero The whole of the hole whole Now Hair and bones
Sunshine Fluffy white clouds rain Rainbows Doves within
No patience To wait beside The wishing well run dry No pennies to drop Till the rain
God whispering in a seashell Beside the wishing well Beneath the skies Where seagulls dwell The forces of nature
Five O Three Cruising down the highway The stolen vehicle Sunroof down Gleaming in the sunlight
Soft early morning street lights g… As warm breezes caress the essence… The sun has yet to reveal what the… As the darkness swallows yesterday… Familiar anticipation
Black leather Doused with sun tan crisco She’s dancing the funky San Fran Disco Oozing sweat
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
