Cannonball Poem by Mark Heathcote

Even if it's late and the table is still waiting to be laid
Throw me a rose and garden me a garden overseas.
Don't pretend to be one of those latter-day saints.
Darling, it isn't kind to leave me here dining alone.
Darling, throw's me a rose across that starry sea.
Promise you'll be waiting for me there.

Darling, if it pleases you, throw me a cannonball.
And I'll roll it back to you, you'll see.
With a little pause, you'll see
It landed right back in your lap.
Darling, if it pleases you,
A cannonball will be rolling
Right on back to you over land and starry sea.
Less the grief of separation we feel right now.

Even if it's late and the bedcovers are still unmade
Throw me a rose and garden me a garden overseas.
Someday soon we'll all be lottery winners, yeah!
Darling, it isn't fair to leave me all alone here.
Whispering prayers into the air
Darling, promise me you'll be waiting for me there.

Darling, if it pleases you, throw me a cannonball.
And I'll roll it back to you, you'll see.
With a little pause, you'll see
It landed right back in your lap.
Darling, if it pleases you,
A cannonball will be rolling
Right on back to you over land and starry sea.
Less the grief of separation we feel right now.

Handing me a rose, I'll remove all my mortal clothes.
Darling, with a smile, I'll stand by you two truths rolled into one.
I'll be grasping flowers in the palms of my hands daily,
Looking -at you, catching a cannonball of proof.
Darling, feeling no more pain, table -laid, and bed made.
No more dust in the house, darling, no more -balustrades to fall out. I'll be your housemade darling, don't look at me so amazed.