I’m Cindy Mae, come walk today
among my village of snow-people and play
with my Billy goat, Fagan and I;
just outside of the red barn, it lies.
I built it with my own two hands,
with smiles, cold fingers, I now stand,
among snow-babies, pure and white;
I must name them all, before the fall of night.
Oh Fagan, Fagan, what shall we call them?
They’re all so very cute and prim.
I’ll name one Billy, one Fagan, after you;
another after my new baby sister, Sue.
As these snow-stars continue to fall,
it makes me think of cotton balls;
I’ll name one Cotton, one Q-tip,
those two, I will name Chip and Skip.
Oh Fagan, aren’t they wonderful?
This day, I have just had a ball.
Now there’s two more that need a name;
I know, I’ll call them, John and James.
Those are my cousins who’ve never seen snow;
they reside in California, in Garden Grove.
Fagan I’ve worked up an appetite,
and Mom’s making warm stew tonight!
MUSICAL PASSION
Music is the living soul
And beating heart of humanity.
It lights my fire of passion
Or tames my restless spirit.
Music calls me to live, taste, feel and see.
The spark of hope and change is ignited.
I hear the voice of the silenced and
Feel the anguish of the oppressed.
The soothing, soulful sounds of
Mangione’s flugelhorn makes me
“Feel so Good. “
The gritty, nasally voice of Dylan
Calls me to listen, for the answers
“Blowin’ in the Wind.”
The rich baritone of Cash
Warns me not to fall
In to the “Ring of Fire.”
Fogerty’s powerful voice
Invites me to dance with Willie and the Po Boys
“Down on the Corner.”
With Hank I can taste that
Home made “Jambalaya”
On the bayou.
Peter, Paul and Mary
Take me to that cherry lane
with “Puff the Magic Dragon.”
I can now call myself “Deacon Blues”
When I lose,
Becker and Fagan tell me.
I can taste the sweet
Tupelo Honey that flows
From the voice of Van Morrison
Jim Morrison said it for me
taking poetic license
music Light’s My Fire.
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