(1974)
Rewitten many times, same message. Author name: JEF ... James Everett Falcon
I Once visited the land of “WAS” Why I did that If memory serves It was just because. It wasn’t a plan for sea and sand
Well, have you seen this Irish St… The finest stud in all of Kerry? Who furrows field and doesn’t yiel… And never seems to want to tarry. A Clydesdale legend, so he’s call…
Crystal Sails on “The Golden Sch… Her rigging laced with silver thre… This ghost ship sails, (All hands… By the ghastly crew, now firmly de… Foggy harbors and misty coves
Too many walks in the park, dear… Yellow speckled freckles on fields… Autumn used her brush In a hurried rush Now Winter finds grays in which t…
Let me be among the first to welcome Autumn In my tennis shorts and cotton top… oh, so cool. With Lemonade in hand
In the evening, in the twilight,… Of the coming of an age in parody Then I see another vision based o… But in the end, there is a song of… Scarlet red finds its way into my…
Rain, hail, galeforce wind. Hay, I am working down here! SO AM I Noah. wind swirled dust devil dancing down a dusty road
Captain Sigh had mud in his eye And a patch hung over the other. His Daddy was a Spanish Pirate As well as his Mother and brother… On the seven seas he artfully sail…
The Banshee wailed as I said to the sea “One more sunrise before I die” JE Falcon
The night bore frost and the moon… To stalking clouds in the mystic s… At the witching hour came a terrib… It was the sound of a battle cry. An aging knight on his trusty stee…
Some pray and ask for miracles, {But you do them every day}, They seem to think that you should… Some mountain ... pass away. All the proof is in your deeds,
In the days of Never-After Came a discontented flurry A mix of thought that lost a lot When given to the worry. Blame was cast upon the wind
“Ice Cream by the quart and an aged Tawny Port mellows the loss of a dream. But I’ve depleted petty cash for a lovely satin sash,
To slip away One summer morning To just disappear Without warning To find a place
Drained, like a cup that holds too… Dry, like deserts approaching noon… The inspiration juices flow Then turn to bits of coal Scattered like the sand upon a dun…