So by chance he espied a glance of your grinning soul
And as your witted smile warmed the dying man’s room
Your nursey self took charge to ask the daughter what’s up
While this pobre social worker heart upsoared—vroom!
Twas a broken wiper and no path to offer an assist
With appointments so varied and faraway to keep
Another fare-thee-well and a spare cheek unkissed
Seeing the ring, he buried unthought feelings deep
But when you’re a halfpenny
How do you compete with a coin of gold?
It’s just the same old thing—
A never to be love, the usual story oft told
But the angels came and spoilt this fine story
Took one heart but then left the other so alone
The prayers fell out all over for the one taken to glory
But in the dark the left behind keen and moan
Across the road, the river, the plains, and a state line
The hurt is shared but the yearning put up and folded away
Wishing for her many happy days and nights, cool and fine
And hush, maybe we can share a Texas sunset one easy day
Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.