Bill Simmons Poems

Evergreens in pastures seem
To be a somber sight
The rolling hills, the whippoorwills
The still of the night
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A poor man is mad of silver and gold
The credit institutions they all think so
Wall street fell today
Seven hundred billion the government paid
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Up and over beyond the next hill
Where the wind lays quiet and still
Where the oak align the streams
And heard too the call of the whippoorwill
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Once a long time ago
And sealed with a kiss
Were the spoken words of love
A magic moment like this
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I was sitting on my sofa
On Christmas eve
My children were in bed
They were all fast asleep
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In the early morning as I looked on
I watched the sparrow’s dawn
As from branch to branch and from twig to twig
They chirped as they hopped along
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Little boy Momo taking it real slow
Trying to be Indian brave
Trying to put his foot in that canoe
He falls into the water, it keeps slipping away
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The days they seem to go on by
But slowly drags on are the nights
What do I do
I am missing you
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As I stumble from my bed
With thoughts still running through my head
From yesterdays…
Trying to understand
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When I was just sixteen
I picked up a gun
My moma taught me better
But I was having fun
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