ESCAPE.
There's not much left of those mountains you see,
Beautiful forest and great big trees,
The air so fresh and so peaceful too,
God made them for me and He made them for you,
We all need to escape from the world now and then,
So the mountains are where I've always been,
Just enjoy them when you can 'cause there will
Not be any mountains left for you and me.
THE LITTLE DAISY GIRL.
There was a little girl,
Who longed to be a flower,
So she teased her golden curl,
As she wished it by the hour.
One day her limbs began to shrivel,
And her clothes to all unravel,
Hair transformed to golden petals,
As her roots dug in the gravel.
Then said she,
"This is simply quite amazing,
Here I stand within the sod,
As a waving yellow daisy,
Who no more shall ever plod.
"Of fate or God am I the seed,
So bright and pretty and gay?
Or of Satan, such a weed?
I pray not!" she had to say.
Soon a bee began to hover,
As it kissed her pretty face.
What a happy little lover,
On its singing wings of lace.
Then came a caterpillar,
Chewing all her leaves to shreds,
Leaving her to wilter,
Down among the flowerbeds.
So the sun began to burn,
Upon her golden yellow spray,
But she found she could not turn,
Instead to face the other way.
In one day did she grow old,
Whisper dry and all alone,
Bowed in age, frail and cold,
Like a poor, tired, nodding crone.
Happy was she as a child,
Gayer still a simple flower,
Now she's buried in the wild,
With pretty daisies for her bower.
THE SONG OF CAROL
Sing to me the Song of Carol,
Brightest ribbons in a breeze,
Dancing bannerettes. A fair! All
Snapping colors midst the trees.
Such wonder that the day denies,
In tinted white with blue between.
Reflected spell, bound in the eyes,
No summer, scudded cloudy scene.
Oh land of crook and silver brook,
Of shadow dank and mossy bank,
Restore what she before forsook,
Where plundered stones asunder sank.
From the mire will come no spire,
Long forgotten this old castle.
Fawn and fish, and swan's desire,
Wistful leap from thistled tassel.
So may in dreams come what seems neigh,
The plunder of your wonder years,
And to the sky your prayers fly,
To banish all your early fears.
Now with your friends the fair begins,
The lost, the lonely, silent few,
To heal hearts and help amends,
And help their lives to start anew.
I'M STUCK ON YOU LIKE GLUE.
Sometimes it hurts so much that I know
it could never come true,
I wish you would notice me some day,
Then I know it will soon pay,
I'm stuck on you like glue and no one
can pull me apart from you,
Your personality makes me want to hold on...
maybe like...super glue,
I'm stuck on you like glue and no one
can pull me apart from you,
Ya...I'll still be stuck on you
till you notice me some day...
WHISPERING AUGUST
August had three sisterns,
Name of April, May, and June.
When he came to slake his thirst,
One would ladel him a spoon,
Of water. His three sisters,
Knew the coming of the moon,
But August in his whispers,
Knew a joyful little tune,
The daughter, of his neighbor,
Sang when she was all alone,
And heard her at her labor,
As he passed her way to home,
At dusk, the streaming vapors,
In keening, Godly litany,
Curling, cut their capers,
In the forest by the sea,
Of which she sang, don't ask, shy
Little August, knows the rune,
For he will only sigh, and say,
"Go ask April, May, or June."
THE KING JAMES RED LETTER EDITION HOLY BIBLE
For proof I fell 'neath my own spell,
And feigned design of blinkered mind,
The truth to tell I knew quite well,
Though in deigned ink red purblind.
