Beyond the porch and up a gentle rise,
The woods open upon a small meadow.

Watching the cottontails playing here
Is a gift welcomed of the spirit’s heart,

The old Tenmile church house was postcard perfect
gleaming white with its tall spire atop the roof
the large brass bell hung proudly in the belfry

It was not so long ago
that wondrous evening
whiled away on blankets
tossed beneath a tree
the picnic basket’s belly filled
and you with me,
make-do gourmets
whose eyes were fixed

Care ye not oh fearsome lads
The ones ye left lie crying
Face ye your country’s enemy
Without a thought for dying

the wee lad cuddles mother
Her breast his haven safe

along the silvered wood of an old split-rail fence
blackberry bushes proliferated yearly
overtaking neighbors to the left and the right
quail and cottontail rabbits were at home here

born on the back of a nightmare
expelling the hard breath of time
toothless harlots sing harmony
reeling drunkenly down alleyways
solace found amid fellow cast outs

In time bleak truth shall wed the lie
teeth cut on life
death’s bones must gnaw
and wine-red lips
of whispered promise unfulfilled
will shrink and shrivel

The light of a million stars followed her into my heart
Illuminating the pitch-black caverns of too many midnights
Rainbows of a thousand pastels waved like the aurora

For twenty-five years along ‘Two Street’
Always drunk to the rotten core
He never knew morning, except as the time
That they opened the tavern door

Everyone hailed that lost reprobate

Covet not thy beauty, lovely one
For as the rainbow it must fade
And every joyous song was sung
Shall fall to ears which cannot hear

Love life, yea, and court not death

We came north for a-thousand reasons, friend
When we leave it’s for damn few less
Old memories fade in the harsh, new light
And the reasons die, I guess

fair, fair, thy face and form
and graced by glorious rainbows all about
yet whose this soul, oh stranger’s soul
that lieth there within thy breast
and there doth molder and decay

your beauty is warmth
seeing your face I melt as butter
in the summer sun
this smitten heart sings
humming as the drone
of a million honeybees
be my love
let me carry you away

I’ll tell you, friends, I ain’t no saint
Not proud of every move I’ve made
Dropped out of class in fifty-two
And hung around the pool hall
Korean war was hot ‘n heavy

It was the year nineteen and forty
The old house sat atop a low mound
Lovingly referred to as the hill
Although it was not high at all
The term hill, a true stretch of imagination