Lake St. Clair thoughts…
On paper, with good pen and good song. I remember silky voice, pale skin and the most beautiful face I ever seen. We prayed and we starved for love in the Spring of my life. Now the Winter of my life is here and I whispered to the night. We were almost lovers.
“Let’s us drink and sport today. Ours is not to-morrow. Love with youth flies swift away, Age is naught but sorrow, Dance and sing, time’s on the wing. Life never knows the return of Spring.—-John Gay 1685-1732”
I was a madman or a saint? In my youth I digest like with a unforgiving hunger. Wanted everything and I held on to nothing. I learn men who took a silent stand against war and hate, believed in little. Just ghost upon the kind earth. I whispered to Lake St. Clair, maybe time for the Gypsy man to do some good. Maybe I will burn some sage and pray for my world to heal. Scribble some words for peace and salvation for my world.