The deep raspy, mournful voice
Unique, born to sing the blues
Improvising, shouting, moaning
Do anything, you’ve paid your dues
Get down and dirty, soul man
But please, just sing me the blues
Make me cry, you know you can
You know which song to choose
Georgia, yeah that’s the one
Slowly, define, own the blues
Every time you sing that song
Soul man, you are the muse
Keep the singing sweet and low
But please, just sing it blue
The sad ache in your phrases
Soul man, I’ll never...
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Over the hill and into the night
Flashlight in hand for the walk
The quiet fireflies take flight
As I tramp through the leaves
I see by the crescent’s moonlight
Fireflies pale, dim yellow bulbs
A wondrous vanishing delight
As they hurry about in a flash
Evening Landscape… Buy This at Allposters.com
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Restless shadows in the hills
Peeking through the sunlight
Stepping on the fallen leaves
A quiet, lingering autumn scene
Broken, lightning singed branches
Faint memories of storms past
The scene trembles with the wind
As wispy clouds gather strength
How many storms have passed
Flooding the streams and ponds
Spilling the soul of the earth and
Scattering it into the valley below
In time, slowly grows a mighty oak
A replica of one on the hills above
Wonderous, splendid landscape’s
Familiar...
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wine leaves a trail within the mind
and the lady’s breath is sweet
the night lingers in a stupor
and there is a tango in the air
the bandeleon wails its lament
and the cello descends in chords
while i watch from afar….
as the moon dances in the wind
Harvest Moon Bill Brauer
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Beautiful harvest moon,
how big and bright you seem,
helping to light the way
as farmer’s reap the fields,
working late in the day.
Beautiful harvest moon,
shine down your orange hue
as the autumn leaves fall.
We feast and celebrate
and dance to the band’s call.
Beautiful harvest moon,
“Shine On Harvest Moon” we
sing on the hayride way.
We huddle for warmth as
the horses trot away.
Beautiful harvest moon,
this night so crisp and clear,
set against the moonlight.
What a...
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The end of the day
chases the shadows
racing over the bay
as a cold wind blows
Hours passed swiftly
bringing frosty nights
now snow falls lightly
sparkling by lamplights
Moonbeams stream by
past frosted windows
a last yawn and sigh
and into a long doze
At dawn’s glimmering
the mist of fog drifts
a stuttered awakening
as winter’s mood shifts
Winter Sunrise at… Witold Skrypczak
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