writing

Lines written in a garden chair

the Schmetterlings
are unearthly things
with lacy wings
of white
It sometimes seems
they could be dreams
left over
from the night.

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Songs of Home and Heartache : part one

steel guitaring echoes
of sadness and defeat
when Patsy gave me sweet dreams
in the heart of lonely street
and the needle always caught her
at the start of cigarettes
no matter how I’d set it right
I never can forget
just how those days are beaten in
and make of that boy the man
I tried to fall far from the tree
to find out who I am
…but…
all these countless heartaches later
when I’m thinking that I’m fine
I realise like old boy Merle
I’m still drinking yesterday’s wine.