A Hobo’s tale

I like, fat, acoustic guitars,

Their strings plucked gently in cantina bars

With singers notes cast to the stars

telling tales, often called yarns

Into the early morn they sing their songs

Till my eyes fail

Rest I do take

So that when I wake

To wide open western skies

I gaze upon my ceiling wherever I call my place

Today is filled with breaths

Held for time

Day screams son, let go, you’re done

You’re safe now and, you’re mine

I like walking along old train tracks

Wearing tattered blue jeans

Kicking stones to places unseen

Remembering those, and times gone by

Especially seeing one who, kissed the sky

I like what time I have

What life was had

What love I stole

What was taken from me

No matter that now

What was mine is yours

And I’ll be back

Soon, I think, to finish those chores

Hang on love, for ever more

I like a simple knapsack

A hobo’s stick

A weathered old cap

No clock, no watches tick

I’ll spend all mine

Go look at yours

There’s a freight train comin

Soon with a name on it

I need a wallet, too

that’s all for now, for this old fool,

But maybe just a little more

Like a really good song

To sing on the trip

Maybe I’ll float down the mighty Mississip

And grab times remembered

About what good times I surrendered

Like time lived, all mine

Joined by friends who passed this way

With me through, the hell and rain

I thank heaven above

My troubles at night that give such frights

are of a kind that die in the mornin light

I say, Come soon, come quickly the next day break,

Times a slippin

Come as sure as fast plains rain or a runaway train

So listen now, I hear it for sure

Words woven into whispers from above, is my cure

They soothe my soul from hard days won

They soothed my soul from hard days sun

Lay me down on judgement day

Wrap me in sheets, of pressed clay

The lines of reason drawn

In red or gold came at costs,

more than told

Lay me down on judgement day

Will earth to take me, to an earlier day

When strong legs fought

To terrible costs

Up hills of lead

Through swamps of dread

Lay me down this time when

Judgement day comes from

Heavens send

Of fought I did so true

For all that worship,

Red, white and blue

Riveting beats

Hit my seat

Steel wheels roll

Over rails made for gold

Across the plains

Locomotives screams

From my box-car

I watch the scenes

To the south

Where lands turn dry

To a house where my child, resides

Tomorrow is

Her day in the sun

A wedding not planned

But yet, sprung

Behind I leave

A cell given to me

A lesson learned

A path now cured,
Yet unsure

Out the door

I watch day for dark

Rain too,
Is television for this old fool

Tomorrow I’ll see

My girl lost from me

One I knew

Yet never seen

I was away, away
you see

This one party

I’ll make

This one for sure

With gold woven in my belt

Gold woven in my belt

Gold woven in my belt
From that last store

From the slinky slank
I drank
Upon a meadow of reds
That stank
Within my time of highs
And lows
And across the bounty
Of lands unknown

Hither dither,
The girl by the river,
Let her hair, hang down

And there it rested
Till the river crested
Combed in the waters flow

And pulled it down stream
to places unseen
To worlds of wonder,
To places with Thunder
Of love and rhyme
And no thoughts of time

Her life,
renewed as the story goes
Though did curl her toes
tucked neatly below her thighs

And up, she looked, with wandering eyes

A raspy clang
Spoke from a bell
Iron it was
Rusting to hell

A raspy clang
Told a story
Of a life lived
Steeped in glory

A raspy clang
Broke the eve
Sent hundreds of notes
Sinning through the trees

And yet a rasp
Resonate and sound
Screamed a hell, not from within
But above Earths ground

So loud and clear
It fired as if
A rifles point at deer
And stung its rasp
And strung its rasp
And stung its rasp
Deep inside
Where common ones live
Hiding their lives

A raspy clang
Broke from silence
Broke from its highest
And shattered crisp dark air
For once
And for all
For all, who care