The pop corn patter of spring rain
slathering the landscape
curling the fern fronds
closing the dandelion’s ruff
gully washers
speed through stone stream beds
marsh mallow yellow flowers
the lowlands and a misty
burgeoning peace settles over
a fresh May day.
Through so much we have been,
my best friend turned stranger.
I'm reminiscent of my life back then,
thoughts of you permanently linger.
An R&B singer,
my heart-beat plays your acoustics.
My best friend turned stranger,
I cannot keep on doing this..
I miss our conversations,
relations,
that stimulate my creations.
My best friend turned stranger,
distance cannot destroy our
life time foundation..
**Dedicated to my Best friend Lauren Prater..
A woman who has touched me like no other
woman has ever.... Smart, ambitious, and faithful...
Traits that place her near perfection..
My best friend who will NEVER be a stranger..**
Jared Pickett
1/15/2010
Asavvy1
Oh, how sad, oh how very glum,
Goodness gracious me prater comes.
Still writing winsome words of woe,
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Oh Lord, let not our life pass by
Let us do more than weep and cry.
Wallowing in morbid abode.
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Whiling away the endless hours;
Scribbling sigils, claws cower.
Envy those not caught in limbo
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Envy the prattle on the page.
At least the words are given stage.
Fields upon fields, rows upon row.
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Feeling your life’s left no dower.
Enjoying the pain not power.
Pondering heaven on life’s gallows.
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Goodness gracious me, prater comes,
And, all of it just, so, ho-hum.
Each word stroked, petted, tilled and hoed,
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
And, all of it just, so, ho-hum.
Leave the box, flee the asylum!
Writing, writing, writing on,
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
All this soulless, mindless, drivel.
Writing, writing, scratch and scribble;
Live above your massive ego
Endlessly stopped, never to go.
Oh how sad, oh how glum,
Goodness gracious prater comes.
Writing winsome words of woe,
Endlessly stopping, never to go.
Whiling away the endless hours;
Scribbling sigils, clawing, I cower.
Oh how sad, oh how glum,
Goodness gracious prater comes.
Envy those not thus engaged.
Envy the prattle on the page;
Stroked, petted, tilled and hoed;
Fields ‘pon fields, rows ‘pon row.
Oh how sad, oh how glum,
Frantic fretting, fear comes.
Wading through the endless nights;
Waiting, waiting for the light.
Writing, writing, scratch and scribble;
All this soulless, mindless, drivel.
Writing, writing, writing on;
‘Till the coming of the dawn.