CMerlyn Poetry (16)

I chatted with my muse today
She's quite upset, with much to say.

"You always ask for songs of love,
The earth below, the skies above.
You ask for songs of sailing ships
And villains vile, and lovers lips
You ask for tales of Yukon gold
And people freezing in the cold
And stories set in tropic isles
With gentle natives beaming smiles

You ask for paintings of beauty rare
With ruby lips and auburn hair
Or quiet glades with autumn trees
And butterflies and bumblebees
And I have given every one
But rare the thanks when I am done
Your name goes on, but never mine
And you all think that this is fine.

But this is not my preference
I don't always make such sense
I'd rather that my damsels fair
Were caught at henna-ing their hair
I much prefer to tell a joke
That makes the proper people choke
A ribald song, perhaps quite smutty
Or silly verse, completely nutty

An Escher house, with floors on high
And fishies swimming in the sky
And make up tunes that make you laugh
While other people think you daft
That is what I'd rather do
Than to tell you how much she loves you
I'm much more fond of the trivial
My name, you see, is Doggerel.

He came to town in the summer, when the ice is supposed to melt
The coldest summer anybody here had ever felt
He entertained us nightly with his stories and his songs
Mostly sang of happy times when he could do no wrong

The bar wasn't much, and the regular crowd
Drank and talked quietly, they seldom got loud
He always kept our spirits up, just the smile on his face
Could warm you like a roaring fire in the old stone fireplace

Seems that he had played for years with a traveling country band
And all he wanted when he died was a guitar in his hand
But he always played a solo, not even a duet
And I wondered if his playing was some kind of private debt.

And I asked him why he came here, why he'd left the sun
He said "Home is where the heart is, and mine has come undone"
I never asked him more than that, but a troubled look appeared
It was three good songs and a pint of beer before it disappeared

He left a few days later, said he heard a wandering call
And he thanked us for the tips we left, the food and drink and all
He said he thought it would be best to leave before the rain
And promised that, if we were good, we’d hear from him again

Winter came with spring behind, and summer before long
But no one had the faintest clue of where he might have gone
Gone without a trace, they said, probably gone back home
Somewhere where the sun shines bright, nevermore to roam

But I don’t think that’s where he is; I’d bet my stake on that
And if he’s in a place called “home” I’ll gladly eat my hat
For I hear his gentle playing in the sighing of the trees
His lonesome voice is singing in every autumn breeze

His eyes are clearly shining in the crystal skies at night
And though they think I’m crazy, I’m pretty sure I’m right
That he has found another town far from the burning sun
For home is where his heart is, although it’s come undone.

I thought I saw a ghost last night
Flicker out like candle light
Then softly glow behind a tree
And reaching out, it beckoned me.

I felt a tugging at my heart
And soon my world came apart
Like spider webs on rainy days
And tattered clouds o'er windy bays.

And as I watched the eerie glow
I thought of things I used to know
Like friends once close that now have gone
Or words to ancient, nameless songs.

But when I tried to walk that way
The light grew dim and could not stay
Attached to common earthly things,
And flew away on angel wings.

Now all I have are empty fears
Of moonlit nights and passing years
And all that you could give to me
Will never serve to set me free

I want to go back one more time to the fair
There’s so much to do and to see
All of my friends are going to be there
And the girl at the jewelry booth was talking to me

The fair is magnificent, totally grand
With ice cream booths under blazing blue skies
There’s Mackinak fudge, and the lemonade stand
And the jewelry booth girl with the beautiful eyes

To see the whole fair takes no less than two days
And you can’t miss the side show, as long as you’re there
And all of the crafts done in so many ways
And the girl at the booth, with her long flowing hair

I haven’t spent enough time at the fair
I still haven’t seen sister’s blue-ribbon key lime
And the girl at the jewelry booth might be there
And I wanted to ask her if she would be mine