Biography of dave lessard
retired hospital worker.
Hiker, reader, writer.
dave lessard's Works:
dave lessard Poems
You Are Too Beautiful For Words...
You are too beautiful for words, which I try to capture in a song; words just simply fail me, I make them up as I go along.
The Lonesome Song Of Love...
Love does not fail, but people do, they agonize, what they've been through; they cast aside, the love they knew, and then, in sadness...rue.
Will you love me when I'm old and gray? when my hairline is receding? will you flee or will you stay, when Viagra I'll be needing?
Some Things Remain.
We weren't meant to live forever, we're here today and gone tomorrow; Father Time has pulled his lever, enter now, the grief and sorrow.
Crimson was the color of the dress you wore, the night we danced, out on the square; the moon was glowing in the sky, the breeze caressed your auburn hair.
Give me a ship that has no rudder, that has no compass for a guide; just give me the sea to float upon, and white-capped waves to ride.
For your eyes only, a secret known by you; hidden from all others, that's only for your view.
Searching For You.
I looked for you along the boulevard, but you were nowhere to be found; I searched the old familiar haunts, asked, if you'd been round.
This autumn day is changing, there's rain in pregnant clouds; the valleys in the early morn, are enclosed in somber shrouds.
A New Year?
I knew that you would come, we've been waiting for so long; to see your face, to hear your voice, break out its new found song.
Cotton, floating on the breeze, falling, gently in the air; 'neath a canopy of trees, in skies so blue and bare.
The Glassford Hill Hike.
Once an ancient volcano, jutting in the air, now just cacti and pronghorns wander there; the morning cool and sunny, no need of talk, we exit from the car and then, begin our walk.
I typed your name, that hasn't changed, but the name is not the thing you are; you were beautiful when first we met, now I only view you from afar.
We crunched the burrs underneath our feet - out in the open field the smell of marsh was sweet.
Here And Now.
Looking back, there are
to block and mar my way;
I've made it to the summit,
and here, for now, I'll stay.
The valley lies below,
it's green and seems at peace,
all I know, my worldly troubles,
up here, for now, have ceased.