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He would turn the other cheek - believed that golden rule. When death was his companion it tore him up inside-- The grim and ugly deeds of war he did just to survive. Raised a family, worked a job, seemed to get along ok. Frail of body, strong of spirit, death knell rings they will not hear it, will not hear it, will not break down and die, hear their battle cry.

Run my beauties, run my lovelies, run my sisters, mothers, wives. Run for the chance to save your children. Run my daughters. Run for your lives. She does not own her body but she owns her soul. Man steps up and says he wants to run, to help, can he come too?

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Woman simply smiles, shakes her head no. Women all alone together must be like birds of a feather. They must show the world that they are strong. But he can sing along.

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Run run, … In the deep African plain, starved for food and rain and peace. It was exhilarating in the short time it was here. You were the sunshine splashing in a pool around my feet. You sent my hopes all dashing but the ride it was so sweet. Memories are hinges, some are rusty, some are clean; some squeak and give you twinges, you know the ones I mean.

You were the brightness held me like the eyes of a frightened deer. There is your sparkling glory you filled my mind with light.

Colder than gray. Gemini Rising in a patchwork sky. Gemini rising in a patchwork sky. Stitched in the fabric of a deep blue eye. They say that I relate, constantly communicate. Talkative, precocious, inconstant as the moon. On the horizon of a big blue night.

Gemini rising in a Patchwork sky. It will be your lover it will be your friend it will be the means to your mortal end. The mountain is a demon. You dig and scrape the livelong day, then toss and turn the night away. They do the work that most would spurn, jobs that make this old world turn. Hey little maverick, back in the herd. Sure as the sun sinks in the West, sure as the red dust swirls.


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Tractor drones in the noonday sun. Cries at the sight of a newborn foal but stills she knows she has to go.

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Listen to It Snow Some folks lose their hearing as they age. Some have never heard too well at all. Me — I hear a pin drop from twenty yards away and I can hear that fly light upon the wall.


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  • Any kind of anger. I listen to it snow Snowflakes are like people. If you put away your anger.

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    If you brush away your fears, If you listen with your heart and not your ears. Unbutton that resentment, drop it right there on the floor And walk back here to me. Time After Time Time after time, I know I told you just how it feels to be caught in the rain in a ghostly old ramshackle barn that smells of wet hay. Time after time. Chewing on grass roots and thinking they taste very sweet.

    Patience my dear if what I remember seems old to your ear. Time after time, holding on tight as the past it unwinds into the soft, silver twilight of my memories, how you please me. Time after time, I know you worry at how I must feel to be caught in the hurry and bustle of these city days. The clatter of pavement, the rustle of grey scattered ways.

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    Come to the doorway and look at the rainbow that comes to the city as well as the farm. Forbidden fruit. Just one taste, ooh what a waste. I think about it every day and night. We love it anyway you chop, shred or dice it. Take it any way you happen to slice it You can serve it hot or you can ice it. Something on the shelf catches my eye and it looks so good as I pass by. Just one taste, ooh what waste. Eve was a good girl all her life. Was a good little mother, was a good little wife.

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    Kept the garden lovely, always got along; Along come a snake in the grass, winked his eye and he made a pass. Just one bite? He Deserves the Hat I saw a cowby hat today on a celebrity. A banker in a cowboy bar in NYC. It sheltered them from wind and sun and snow and made a handy pillow when it cam time to rest. He wore it for utility and not for show.

    I'Ve Been Waiting So Long

    He has earned his spurs, his belt buckle, his jeans of blue. Now cowboy gear is all the rage today, I realize. Go out and have your fun. He has earned his spurs, his belt buckle, he jeans of blue. My scent it will caress your skin as you walk the day my dear. And you may touch, and you may taste, but you may never, ever see my face.

    Before the day came knocking on our shutters as we slept, he whispered to me softly as from my arms he crept.