Jessie
Her blues and her dreams were finely conceived things
Beautifully and passionately conveyed
As when she sang and played her silver strings
In the hushed summer evening shade
And her songs were composed of youthful desires
Carefully wrought measures of ices and fires
Like the intricate links of the silver wires
That suspended her blues and her dreams
And her soft bronze face expressed the effortless grace
That surrounded her slender form in a full embrace
And sparkled out her special light
From that deeply mysterious place
So when all your fine fruits hang ripe on the vine
Aroused from their slumber by the light and the rains
And their sensuous juices ooze sweet pink wines
That stir in your thirsty veins
Recall for me the sweet sadness called Jessie
Jessie! My delight -- my pain
For she wore a turquoise heart and a moonstone star
On a long, shiny silver chain
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© 1989 Cal Thunder Hawk |