Save me from getting old
Your fingers forever a sacred chalice
To which my lifeline shall be caught
As I freely let
Unto the fingers that touch me so.
I shall not shy away
From this touch you lay upon
Skin so stretched as leaves turn gold
Save me from getting old.
I watched the sun set today
My worn legs took me to the edge of the world
Where I ran my finger over horizon lines
That achingly waltzed a deep pink hue of gold.
The last drops of sunlight are transfixing
They speak of ancient willows blowing in the wind,
Of ancestors who worked fields with their hands,
Of patio chairs rocking back and forth
Transfixed by the first sips of a perspiring cider.
Then, darkness calls;
Outstretched hands tracing my jawline
Caressing my sore back with nimble fingers
Jarring my consciousness with fading memories
Like static visions lifting stars into place
And a wind dying down for rest.
As each toe touch shimmers gold and let’s horizon shine within
My breath becomes held so dear for I shan’t want to disturb
I see each leaflet of your hair lazing about so free
That my face can feel with each breeze the sensitivity of your back
And this my heart it lifts with ease as goosebumps do grow of
Upon just knowing how we share this stoop, and I privy to your thoughts
So deaf have I become of else walking upon our path
But in your hand you walk up from, a bouquet in your hand.
Your lazy way fills up my mind
With honey bags full and plump
So heavy that your wandering
Feels delightfully like a wobbly jaunt
Hand in hand again.
It reminds me of days spent
Lounging in floral gardens,
Where I, too, did float about
From yellow, pink, and purple too
Into deep recesses of sacred jewels.
You dance in front of my very eyes
Miraculasly grabbing hold of flowers
So delicate looking and forever blooming
Scarcely able to hold your weight,
Now stuffed so full with sweet gold
And off to home you go.
I was a sailor broken down
Two bags of silver from the crown
One Lady yonder missing me
And two days more I’d run from ground
But even with a bag of gold
I called out loud when setting sail
For o’r the breakers I was sure to see
A land I’d not know, adventure to me
And surely a maiden calling out to be
Another Lady missing me.
Take me to the canyon, Pilgrim
Along a dusty trail
My pack mule’s been dying, Sir
For a thirst that’s never quenched.
Mine me all your gold now
Deep below the belt
Mind me as your prospector
I’ll be clearing all your debts.
I’ve been buildin’ ladders to
Mexico in a bottle
I’ve been runnin’ through my picaxe
And my hands sing rawhide.
One more round ‘for I go down
One to kill the dust
Maybe my day’ll come soon
I’ll fill my final thirst.
Dancing through the Kingdom of Joy
Alone, the rupture had a sentence
A package of unexpected buoyancy
Laid about thy path.
Oh, shame shame the clouds have come
Accept thy fate and look back no more
Forgive each breath you once deplored
Let run deep thy river’s mane.
Stepping aside, a willow tree
Called thy name twice in vain
But on the third day, as time began
A shift in conscience pulled at thee.
Then with a rod of sixfold and reel
Twang at last, the pauper’s gold
Gifting all that had been told
Left alone in a field of wildflowers.
Willow knew how to throw up the teepee
But I quickly learned how, too,
It was my first time
But with Willow and Moon Cow giving orders
It went up easily
We set up Moon Cow’s close by ours
And slowly we became acquainted with our new home
For the summer, anyways,
For now it was our home.
When we first stopped
And made our home here
Mountain Chief had sent out scouts
In every direction
To make sure that we were indeed
Not going to be easily found
Every second day new scouts
Would relieve the old scouts
And so it went for the first while
Without any event to note of.
We learned that in the two valleys to the North
About a 4 hour horseback ride
There was a small family settlement
Mountain Chief asked me if I would go
And introduce myself to them
So that they would know we meant peace
But also to see if they were friendlies
To see if they were friendly to Natives.
When I arrived at their house
I wasn’t expecting what I found
Truth be told, I didn’t know what I was expecting
But at any rate
What I found really didn’t seem normal
She was deaf and he was blind
They had a dog with three legs
And a son, well more a man they called boy,
That was a good two feet taller then both of them
And to my untrained eye,
Didn’t look a lick like either one of them
They all seemed happy enough though
And I got along just nice with them.
Her name was Sara
And it turned out that her hearing
Wasn’t as bad as one first thought
And what she lacked in hearing
She made up for in a delicious soup
His name was Bill, and he was an old miner
He had come West to the hills to find gold
And I didn’t ask if he had found it
But he did tell me he found Sara
And knew he had found what he came for
Sara had already had the son
By another miner who had taken her
One night while visiting the saloon in town
The young man’s name was Johnny,
Who they both called Johnny-boy
And just watching his hands work an axe
For firewood to get ol’ Sara’s stove roaring
One could see he was as gentle as a pillow
But as strong as an ox
Bill told me he went blind from drinking too much moonshine
And that was the last time
He touched the: “Gat-dang stuff. Pardon my French, little lady.”