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.
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 ...