There were song birds sweetly singing
and fawns beside a brook
all the while a mandolin elf
danced atop a book
which lay upon my heaving chest
as I lay beneath a bough
a mattress made of dandelions
defied gravity somehow
When I awoke the day had fled
The shadowed light grew dim
I rose up like the vapor
which floats above the glen
the cold wind seemed then to move me
toward the city’s edge
I rejoined my surly carcass
sleeping neath a bridge.
If I had a dollar
I’d buy a jug of wine
and kiss my lovely mistress
the siren of the vine.
Hey! George my dear friend I see a poetic feast beside a brook in life...........and the wine tastes Irish!
Hi George. This is really terrific. A very enjoyable read. It's going in my favorites.
This is so poetic and the rhyme and rhythm suited it perfectly. This is perfection in words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem, great rhythem and structure. You make being homeless sound like something great. Thanks for the sterling poetic values of this poem, Your friend Lynn