Here comes the boy with the purple eyelashes
And hair the color of dried May apples ground into blood pudding,
He says, "Hi" and says "I'm gonna go over by the swamp
And think by the light of the moon."
Everyone, mostly, thinks he's losin' his strings
And blows the words around,
But....he's alright and better, and the moon
Shines brighter for him and his.
1961
Untitled
Faith in tomorrow, what pain it can bring!
Death seems only fitting in some times of despair,
But falls short of the answer when that 'something' is there,
That wee burning ember of "maybe I will,"
A glimmer that warms when there's no heart that will.
It keeps calling me closer when I'm drifting away,
Insisting I wait just one more day.
It's the time you waste with someone dear
That makes you love him so sincere.
What is it then, when love's so strong,
That tears you away from where you belong?
When you know that the arms that held you near,
When you know that the voice you loved to hear,
And the things you wanted, if all else be lost,
To protect and cherish at any cost,
What is it then that steps between,
And creates a nightmare from a precious dream?
1978