On a stick
An ashplant
We all rest a while
With a smile
And some guile
‘bout the road before
Think a while
For a while
When our mind
Has gone
Faraway
Countrymile
We may smile
Bird has got to fly
Poets gotta sing
the truth
Maya angelou
Sang to me sotto voce
Like a freebird that
Could not give
a damme
Or an irish
man
Without
A wigwam
love once blessed you
it once blessed those you met you
where is next to go?
the filtered wind wind
of desire of love
cavernous genorosities
plenitutinous
claptrap
or
thanks