NEW PORTS OF CALL
It is raise anchor and away
when the wind of change is blowing.
It knows how to get me where
I don't know where I'm going.
The wind of change lands me there,
that place I go unknowing.
Here on life's sea-journey
I am just passing through.
Many cruel storms I brave
and maybe even do you.
Up and down with the waves,
heading for destinations new.
A DOG-SHED MAN
Black dog, black dog,
in the doghouse again.
She gets you down,
you're on her chain.
Black dog, black dog,
you see only black.
She's got you shackled
inside the dog-shack.
Black dog, black dog,
in mind, in brain.
She gets you down,
you're on her chain.
A-SPIRITED-AWAY-SISTER-GYPSY-GIRL-DUO
The horse from the wagon unhitched,
there the midnight moon bewitched
the gypsy-men by the camp fire
as the girls danced in Romany attire.
These were the gypsies true.
One surely could the future view
when the spirit had so allowed,
before her vision it'd then cloud.
The other was a beautiful rose,
same flower 'tween teeth, rings on toes
and fingers. Yes she wore no shoes.
Barefoot the girls danced. The two
were sisters. Yet beauty was to pass
and visions fade as to the glass.
No more the Romany-rose nor the seer
who saw into her crystal ball so clear.
No more the gypsy-men fiddles play
while the girls, like fairies, dance away.
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