After a long hard day on the job
Feeling down trodden and beat
All that it is that I can think of
Is getting off my dog tired feet

But first a little pleasure stop
Down at the local market place
So while I'm sitting on my derriere
I'll have something to stuff my face

Of course you know the conclusion
My taste buds they always come to
The perfect of all combinations
One on which you never can lose

I'm talking peanut butter and chocolate
The true fantasy of men
I prefer mine in little droplets
Better known as peanut butter m&m;'s

I fell straight into a chocoholic mode
Ripping the bag open as contents explode
No turning back as I mindlessly grab
Giggling like a crazed Dennis Rodman in drag

Then it slapped me right smack in the face
Something not right going on in this place
As I gazed upon what looked like to me
A regular m&m; in my bag of ecstasy

I couldn't believe what sat before my eyes
Have I been fed a bunch of white chocolate lies
My mouth hangs open truly amazed
With milk chocolate drool all over my face

I rufuse to let this travesty go unresolved
With my stationary shaped like butterfly wings
I shoot off a letter to the corporate boss
Telling of the trauma he has caused me

I want answers and I want  them right now
Asking nothing less than the mysteries of life
How could anyone be so careless
As to let a regular m&m; slide by

Said they need people like me with keen eyes
Offered me work in their quality control booth
Now after months and months on the job
Even the thought of chocolate makes me want to puke

It ain't the pork, it ain't the beans
It ain't the mustard on saltines
It ain't the redneck social scenes

I love about the south

It ain't the ice cold sweet southern tea
It ain't the way that we say please
It ain't the way we lemon squeeze

I love about the south

It ain't the perfect slice of pecan pie
It ain't the wink in the bullfrog's eyes
It ain't the fireflies that light the night

I love about the south

It ain't the way we say yes ma'am
When you visit Alabam
It ain't the attitude of yes we can

I love about the south

It ain't the way that we say ya'll
With the syrupy sweet southern draw
No it ain't none of that at all

I love about the south

It's the crisp clear starry nights
Through the shifting shadows of the loblolly pine
As I stand here with your hand in mine

I love about the south

Just the fact that you are here
And that I can hold you near
As I hear you call me dear

*I love about the south

I. For Love

For love has found me,
Resting under an old willow tree.
Gazing at the stars, glistening, glowing, love's purest art.
The echoes of an ancient melody written in the sky,
The memories of those who were destined to die.
For they had dared to dream of an ocean serene,
Filled with beauty and passion in the heart unseen.
So with fire in their soul and light in their eyes,
They were led by sweet music as starlight disguised.
And when they heard deep lullabies sung by stars up above,
They had finally found peace in their quest for love.

For a dream has found me,
Aching, silent, wondering, why?
Was I not one who was destined to die?
Like roses that bloom and try to reach the light,
My hands shall grasp and seek without sight
A burnt out love that had once been so bright...
But I found no respite in the coolness of night.
With the sky clouded and murky, no stars here would gleam,
Like the cold lifeless trees that winter picks clean.
I would have been left with only memories of the stars I had seen,
Were it not for the melodies found in a dream.

For winter has found me,
Aching for a summerset breeze.
Love, once mine, was now lost at sea.
The path laid before now only a memory.
Lost and alone I sought with despair,
The meaning of life in winter's cold air,
But the chill in my bones was too much to bear.
As I laid there in silence I soon discovered,
Out of the shame and guilt I had kept hidden and covered,
The songs in my heart that would have faded and withered,
Were blossoming like flowers in the cold of that winter.

For love has found me,
Waiting under an old willow tree.
I had been patient and faithful, and finally found peace.
By listening to my heart and the words that it gave me,
I found that the soul is deeper than the sea.
And when I heard deep lullabies sung by stars up above,
I knew surely one day a cadence would come.
Although rich and full it would be sadly sung,
Not for sorrow, or pain, but surely, for love.



       II. Take Me Away

Take me away in the wind of a melody,
Take me away from the clouds that cover me.

As the tide rolls in from darkness,
The moon shines on waves of silver crests,
And the current cascades into my soul.

A sudden gale rises from the sea,
It's chill consumes my entire being,
And my heart sings to just let go.

Take me away to a cadence sung in dreams.
Take me away in the harmony of the sea.

A story written in the darkness of the deep,
A song in the sky - an ancient melody.

Wildflowers sway softly in the morning breeze,
A sunrise.
The meadow's cool touch draws me to sleep -
Amidst the willow trees my soul finds peace.

The storm seems to call a melody from the sea,
The thunder awakens me from my summer dreams.
I long to find a midnight breeze..
For the breath of the stars to come and carry me.
Away from the tempest that stirs in me,
The tidal storm threatening my bravery.

Wildflowers glow warmly in the afternoon sun,
A reminder of the things I've overcome.
The sound of wind-swept melodies from an ocean serene,
Resonates amid the sea of evergreen.

But a darkness hangs over my dream,
A misty tide come to take away the stars I have seen.

Rain falls down on me,
Weeping clouds drown out my every plea.
The whisper of a melody too faint to hear,
The storm of the symphony now buzzing in my ears.
Tear-stained words I can no longer say,
The longing for a cadence to take me away.

Wildflowers glow faintly in the evening light,
A sunset come to take me into the night.

Take me away to the willow tree,
Where the stars echo an ancient melody.

Take me away, in the storm of a symphony.



       III. A Cadence Sadly Sung

Alone at sea,
I long to leave but your eyes captured me.
Waves crash on me,
The stormy seas will not leave me in peace.
Clouds cover me,
The stars that led me now fall to the sea.
Now you remain,
Your voice a storm's dark refrain that marks
A cadence sadly sung.

Songs reside in my heart,
Fill me with hope like blooming roses,
Wait until the moon was new and sun was high.

Inside my heart,
Deep, dark,
Diamond so pure inside,
Never given the chance, never the dream,
Secrets of life remain unseen,
In broken hearts that led me to fall.
And in that smile that had started it all.
Without a word,
Without a whisper, a call or a plea.
But you somehow have brought me
down to my hands and my knees.
But you somehow found your way
into the story of me.

And now you remain,
like a storm's dark refrain,
Passion and thunder.
And the story goes on,
Like a never-ending song,
A cadence sadly sung.

I remember the days before,
when I could feel my veins
pumping through my chest
as I gasped for air
each morning,
my eyes shuddering
from the dawning sunlight.

The dreams were always the same,
always of you
and
your eyes;
those perfect spheres
that collected the pain
and suffering
of those who gazed upon them.

And then you began to cry...
your sea is too much for me.

I begin to drown.

You are not there to take me
from the turning tide.

And then I wake,
as if I spent years
down in that well to your soul,
with no hope but the cobblestone
walls that surrounded me.

And every morning
you would turn to me
as the light draped down
the arch of your back,
and those eyes would steal
another piece of my heart.

But those days are gone,
and your eyes have moved on.

Each day I lie still and stare
at the imprint your body has left
on my bed.

There is no heartbeat left here.

I am left with only a memory of cold,
biting air tinged with lavender
as we walked through gardens
at midnight.

I always thought it would be much louder than this.

A snap of a twig,
the crunching of leaves,
a whisper of your soft voice
in the brisk autumn air...

...nothing.

For you stole my heart
in the quiet of the night...
I listen to the silence of my soul
and finally understand.

You were never mine.

Each day I wake and wonder
if I'll ever find the strength
to spell out my soul
to remind you
that sometimes it's okay
just to let go of all your control

But like the clouds in the sky
I'll rain down on you
And cool down your eyes
That burn with anger from
the mess you made.

Misery has made you his slave.

Tonight a cold breeze will find you
The past that you lived through
is present again in
The roots that pull you down under
Deep in your slumber
The nightmare returns

And like the stars in the sky
I'll pierce through shadow
Open up your eyes
And guide you away from
the mess you made.

No longer will you be misery's slave.

When spring wakes from his hibernation
All of creation will view you and smile
With the clouds gone
Your precipitation
And stars blotted by the sun
Your gaze turned away...

But still I found you,
Beautiful and mute.
In the glow of the evening's light,
I held you once more, but too tight.

Blood dripped down my arm,
And stained the grass surrounding you:
Soaking the coarse earth that was your womb.

You are a rose

newly bloomed

I have heard it is easier to forget
that one day we will all die
A solemn fading of the wind past the horizon
to where the evergreens no longer grow
and the ground is gray with dust

I have heard it is easier to forget
that one day the person I know as myself
will cease to be

I have heard it is easier to forget
about death
And live as if I shall always be

But I do not yet know how to forget
The only thing I am certain of

A child draws the outline of a body.
She draws what she can, but it is white all through,
she cannot fill in what she knows is there.
Within the unsupported line, she knows
that life is missing; she has cut
one background from another. Like a child,
she turns to her mother.

And you draw the heart
against the emptiness she has created.

In the story of Patroclus
no one survives, not even Achilles
who was nearly a god.
Patroclus resembled him; they wore
the same armor.

Always in these friendships
one serves the other, one is less than the other:
the hierarchy
is always apparant, though the legends
cannot be trusted--
their source is the survivor,
the one who has been abandoned.

What were the Greek ships on fire
compared to this loss?

In his tent, Achilles
grieved with his whole being
and the gods saw
he was a man already dead, a victim
of the part that loved,
the part that was mortal.