Wee ditty: Tarry not, come hither

Douglas A. Bauman, January 2005
Although I tarry haste, I shall come hither, Do not parry chase, lest ye go thither. If thou pour a life in one direction, Then thou lose a chance at fresh convection. If thou hear my words, spend little labor, Words of praise speak not, but gentle favor. Bare the thoughts your eyes can never hide, Hear your soul and ride the rushing tide. For you have never, been so clever, enough to lead yourself forever far from me.



Burning Love

Every day, every night I always thought of you always lost in a daze Not knowing what to do Then one day I awoke with a glimpse of your name Knowing then knowing there my life would never be the same.
... back ...