Sun, yellow sun

Sun, yellow Sun
Chase the dark away
Open the morning curtains
Give us another day

Sun, yellow Sun
Part the sea of clouds
Flowers bend hello
The oak stands unbowed

Sun, yellow Sun
Bright above our heads
Your children, the robins
Their songs sunlight fed

Sun, yellow Sun
Pass the noonday line
Shadows on your trail
Done with morning’s climb

Sun, yellow Sun
Sinking into bed
Day closed behind you
Your footprints orange and red

Sun, yellow Sun
Asleep for a time
Slip off into dreamland
Let Moon complete the rhyme.

Advertisements

A mismatched couple

To all the mismatched couples out there.

Those shoes she bought me
They squeezed my feet
That hat she gave me
Didn’t look so neat
Those pants she brought me
They’re way too tight
The shirt she sewed me
It’s much too bright

We’re a mismatched couple
She and I
Yet our romance
We can’t deny

That car I bought her
Broke down in a week
That candy I sent her
Was much too sweet
The rose I brought her
It made her sneeze
The book I read her
A “No thank you please”

We’re a mismatched couple
She and I
Yet our romance
We can’t deny

The house we bought
Fell down on our heads
The garden we planted
Weeds pronounced it dead
The fights we’ve had
Win, draw or loose
But here we are
We’re the one we choose

We’re a mismatched couple
She and I
Yet our romance
We can’t deny

Moonlight and midday

The sea is blue
at high tide at night,
a moon above
a great ball of light,
stars sprinkling on
a canvas of sky,
gulls cawing out,
“Come with us and fly.”

Dolphins and whales
through the seas they run,
singing their songs
under moon and sun.
Waves of water
rising and falling,
sea and the wind
hear the shore calling.

Blue and the blue
the sky and the sea
and the white clouds
and shadows of trees.
Sand brown beaches
nesting turtle eggs
till the sea calls
from the water’s edge.

The sun setting,
moon rise in the east,
stars returning,
the great and the least.
The horizon
a distance away,
sea and the sky,
moonlight and midday.

The sea is blue
at high tide at night.

Apple Tree Blues

Just another lyric without a tune

Chorus:
I am an old man
The devil ain’t boss of me
I am an old man
Older than Methuselee

Back in my young years
Adam said to me,
“Don’t you ever eat
Fruit from the apple tree.

Oh, sure the apples
May be a tasty fruit.
I’m here to tell you
God don’t give a hoot.

Eat them apples.
You mess up the Plan.
One thing you’ll get.
The back side of His hand.”

In old Mesopotamie
Throughout that ancient land
All the folks were folks
In apple-eating clans.

They drank them ciders.
Ate all kinds of pies.
But they gave no look
To the clouds in the sky.

Noah was a non-
Apple-eating man.
Never did he taste
Dumplins, fritters or flan

Chorus:
I am an old man
The devil ain’t boss of me
I am an old man
Older than Methuselee

Noah never was
A propheting man
But Noah could tell
God had Himself a Plan.

“Better get ready.
An umbrella won’t do.
Rain’s sure a-coming
To flood me and you.”

It was a Sunday
When he told his wife.
He told her once.
Told her three times thrice.

Noah built himself
A big big boat.
Checked for the leaks,
Made sure boat did float.

Loaded that boat up
With lots of critters.
Two of each they came,
Slow ones, go getters.

It rained real hard,
Pounded forty days.
Noah and his family
Got cabin fever crazed.

Chorus:
I am an old man
The devil ain’t boss of me
I am an old man
Older than Methuselee

Said, “We’re up a creek
Without a paddle.
This boat’s not safe.
Listen to the rattle.”

The boat didn’t sink.
The water went down.
The boat hit a rock.
Noah stepped on to ground.

With seasickness gone
The fam settled in
Raising apple trees
In the way back when.

The Good Lord He looked
Down with godly aim.
“What am I gonna do?
Noah’s more of the same.

Snozzling down cider,
He’s gone apple loose.
Told him not to drink
Any apple juice.”

So God threw up His
Mighty mighty hands.
“I’m outta here; just maybe
Martians will follow the Plan.”

Chorus:
I am an old man
The devil ain’t boss of me
I am an old man
Older than Methuselee

Syria Song

A lyric for all the victims of the Syrian Civil War

In the history of the world
how could we expect boy or girl
slammed against a prison wall
and raped till they could not crawl.
A dozen men stand in line
to take a turn at their crime.
The victims’ blood on the brick,
their deaths were slow, never quick.

Was this Guernica?
Was this Hiroshima?
Hi ho, hi ho, It was Aleppo.
Hi, hi, ho.

In the history of the world
how could we expect boy or girl
to breathe air of toxic gas
’til they breathed their very last
when the bombs came crashing down
rattling streets with warlike sounds.
Terror, a name given that place,
a town left without a face.

Was this Guernica?
Was this Hiroshima?
Hi ho, hi ho, It was Aleppo.
Hi, hi, ho.

Bridge:
Oh, Mary. Oh, Mary,
hear your children cry.

In the history of the world
how could we expect boy or girl,
on the streets all rag and bone
with no place to call a home.
Children are now on the run
unwanted, met by the gun,
just another child of God
that the world has left to rot.

Was this Guernica?
Was this Hiroshima?
Hi ho, hi ho, It was Aleppo.
Hi, hi, ho.