Dec 2014
It's always just out of reach it seems
Dreams are something better forgotten
Rotten, my wrongs, with regrets of paths not trod
Fodder for turning and throwing my lot in
I desire it in the innermost places
Paces I've put us through seem to outshine
Divine interventions I thought that I wanted
Haunted my wish for true joy to be mine
HELLO UP THERE LORD, Is there anyone up there
Cherishing children who call on thy Name?
Shame that I can't seem to hear see or feel you
Why so taciturn, seems such a shame
Dreams are something better forgotten
Rotten, my wrongs, with regrets of paths not trod
Fodder for turning and throwing my lot in
I desire it in the innermost places
Paces I've put us through seem to outshine
Divine interventions I thought that I wanted
Haunted my wish for true joy to be mine
HELLO UP THERE LORD, Is there anyone up there
Cherishing children who call on thy Name?
Shame that I can't seem to hear see or feel you
Why so taciturn, seems such a shame
Conachlon is an old Gaelic form where last syllable of a previous line rhymes with first syllable of next. Any other rhymes (like couplets, for instance) are sometimes used, but not necessary.
(M/Rochester, New York)
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