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Hope and Future and Chance

The pain of his past rested on the front of his eyes,
Memory tempted then mocked and let loose in droplets.
Where now can pale usefulness express its wont?
How will tomorrow find reason inside old couplets?

Full-time folly found rest upon the other slack shoulder,
And swirling, the promise and the lie presented opportunely;
Yet a path coursed beyond the copse, bidding one to follow;
New memory scorned to breach history, to grow jejunely.

An old minstrel parsed a chord, and improved;
The song of song that choirs failed yet chimed aloud;
While pan wrens sauntered and soared ever above,
Dodging the eagles, falling, sprinting to eclipse yon cloud.

Tears will dry with hope and future and chance rekindled;
Goats may prance upon thatched roofs, high and mighty,
But the parson-chaplain rises early to great the new day,
And pale usefulness finds expression, keen and rightly.

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Let Fly

Come out from behind your cover
Make me a better man
Let the young pan wren fly
Come over as soon as you can
He was a very instant person*
Ten feet ahead of all of it*
But it was so early morning façade
Every little stoned bit part of it
She was all total PTSD
The subject is surely closed
A shattering glowing in the past
Is what we all supposed
Their paths crossed over the river
Love of a finer distraction
Until the prelude fell away
Making way for a newer attraction
He shouldn’t have said that
As all the passion has flown
Too late he shuts his trap
Too familiar the feeling of being so alone
Come out from behind your cover
Make me a better man
Let the young pan wren fly
Come over whenever you can

*stolen from Paul Trynka’s “Brian Jones,” 2014