The gales of November sit still on my mind
while I stand to remember the Maritime blues
Twenty-nine souls cradled by the sea
perished as the gales of November blew free
"We're holding our own just like an old shoe "
transmissions and messages lost in debris !
Superior storms blew hard and unfettered
as the gales of November amok, ran the sea
Twenty-nine souls gone astray with the wind
and the mountains and lakes still echo for thee
Its a "Lightfoot" connection that sings of your plea
as the winds of November blow wild and blow free !
Categories:
lightfoot, destiny,
Form: Rhyme
We didn’t know
‘Til time happened to decompose.
Missed my friends, classes, teachers
From two days to two years.
I want to go back.
Get your bags and go pack
Because we’re going to the past.
You’re my only gateway; I hope you last.
We’ve lost too much,
And we’ve fallen out of touch.
Time is going to stop today,
And it will be forever Monday.
Categories:
lightfoot, growing up, high school,
Form: Rhyme
The Marquee whispered, Gorden is gone...
The Edmund Fitzgerald briefly raised its bow
from the black icy depths of its echoes.
Carefree highway shimmering, flecks of gold
if you could read my mind love
It would wish your chords to never grow old.
It's Sundown, the maple leaf sways in great sadness.
melodies cascading gently down from the heavens.
Categories:
lightfoot, memory, music,
Form: Rhyme
Lightfoot's Mayor job, let's not interrupt
Removing her from office, too abrupt ~
Forget the lockdowns and crime
Schools half-empty all the time ~
Truth is, she's not sufficiently corrupt
Categories:
lightfoot, chicago, corruption, irony, political,
Form: Limerick
Attended a performance last night that blew me away
A concert in tribute of Gord Lightfoot, idol of my younger days
What glorious memories
Evoked teary-eyed reveries
A journey back in music, a gentler time it portrayed
Categories:
lightfoot, tribute,
Form: Limerick
At seventeen, so radiant,
hair raven black, eyes emerald green -
the local lads, they just don't stand a chance.
Lucy's heart is in the village church -
the love of her life, a wooden effigy,
of a soldier who died long ago,
before Lucy's birth.
She has visited the tomb
every day since she was twelve.
She brings her lover flowers,
tells him details of
her daily life:
living on a local farm,
with her father and two brothers.
Then, one day, Lucy is riding
her beloved white horse,
in the direction of the little church.
She gets caught in a storm,
so fierce. The skies turn black.
She must reach the church,
her sanctuary from the violence
of the elements.
She tethers her terrified horse
to the rusty gate,
and soon she is safe, with her lover again.
Lucy's horse was later discovered,
frightened and alone.
But where did Lucy go?
No trace of Lucy Lightfoot was ever found -
although...
Categories:
lightfoot, dark, death, emotions, fantasy,
Form: Free verse