Traveling Bard
by
Walter Jones
(Age: 67)
copyright 10-15-2007
   
Age Rating: 16 +
Vision calls me in trouble sleep I come
Accept failure is whisper gone mad
Trip upon the ghost wanting to take me
Love easier than anything I will know
Sorrow rips at me in all vestige of hope
Know not answers to my mind
Faith just lifts me past desire lost
As faith makes its way into the room
A finger of fate points the way
A bottle lays dead on time
Mind brings truth in vision
Tired in blues hues dress
A virgin coming to rescue true
As trust grows in cold wind seeking
Trees crying for warm days left
In a park breezes play in views
Leaves rustle hard to love lost
Robin cries as mate has death born
Reality never pushes past stoned
Markers in never grieve hard for long
As terror makes its round in holes in ground
Sound of romance comes in goes to vision found
Nothing short of dying half as lonesome as city
Request for better in letter left for her to view
Fate takes park bench to message in wind
Looking sad as life goes on world keeps turning
Time we spent was bridges burning fast
With pillows cover in your glow
Know well your body with mine
As rain fades to faith in love gone
As get in movement tress of late tragedy
Play competed in armor of heart on a stone
revelation kept in wisdom on my shoulder
as our bodies are left cold in ground
as raindrops come to meet
a street vendor takes the place
our cardboard box in good use
as banjo clicks a last lick
child runs to me
see my heart
it is on your sleeve
grieve for me
for I loved
you beyond
faith
as wind swirls past markers in rows
play in a graveyard
dance in souls
going home
to hold
a long
lost
hope
the greatest of these sleeps in warm bed
eats the best to feed his hunger
as each noise cries for fill
chances left on a bed gone
as each goes home
cry if you can
love if you win
bottle broke in bin
as the sky lights up in thunder by lightning
only quest is a vision on a step to be saved
for in fate we each pass the wrath of hell
open the gate to heaven waiting
only faith achieves warm bed
hunger fed clean past white washed stone
Roadside note clear
whiskey gives as it takes
No angels here only a rambler and a rover
Seeking the eagle scream of heart warm
In revaluation of singing bard showing
What it is a man wishes for and a woman loves
|