Email Poem

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Poem

If my art did go, out into the sunlight
And my work, did show, with no use of light
Could you see my thoughts, within the wood grain
Would you hold it as dear, and want it for your own

Will you hand it down, in chains unbroken
Maybe they are best, left undone
Well I don't know, and I don't really care
I'll give my love, everywhere

Ripple in the wood grain 
And, I, just can't carve it right
Oh, Lord, what a sight

I'll reach out my hand, if your walls are empty
If your walls are full, put it somewhere else
Let it be known, that it is your problem
I'll make it for you, then your on your own

There is no end, to the projects, envisioned
I work through the day, and dead of night
I don't mind, it's all the same
The love is in mistakes, for which I am to blame

Ripple in the wood grain
And, I, just can't carve it right
Oh, Lord, what a sight

For those who know, it's an endless battle
You strive to achieve, perfection for your own
And if you do, then who is to notice
If you know what I see, then you shall take it home


-- Inspired the Grateful Dead song -RIPPLE- By Robert Hunter and Jerry Garcia.

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