In some distant time
Where morning comes slowly
The Lord had called me to this
Barely before the sun settles in
I stir my coffee with a tarnished silver spoon
That reminds me of time past
Distant songs and mended memories
My wrinkled fingers stuffing pipe
Retired to my chair with mans best friend at my feet
The mind tumbles with a deep shade
Will wright my last painted poesy
In forgotten notebooks
Of how life was
Lost lovers forgotten wars and golden yesterday
With rhythm falling off the page
My inky echoes will fade
As the last autumn falls on me
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 6:55 AM UTC
In some distant time
Where morning comes slowly
The Lord had called me to this
Barely before the sun settles in
I stir my coffee with a tarnished silver spoon
That reminds me of time past
Distant songs and mended memories
My wrinkled fingers stuffing pipe
Retired to my chair with mans best friend at my feet
The mind tumbles with a deep shade
Will wright my last painted poesy
In forgotten notebooks
Of how life was
Lost lovers forgotten wars and golden yesterday
With rhythm falling off the page
My inky echoes will fade
As the last autumn falls on me
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