Friday, 26 May 2017

baby belle

my baby belle has walked on her way
she's fallen in love, at the ides of may
the boy she loves is new to her
she embraces his soul
his body, his leap

the boy she loves, my baby belle
dances and sings,  my soul to tell
he has a band and plays the fiddle
rehearsing rhymes to chicken little

what does this man have that i do not
something that in turn looks like a yacht
i'll try one day to catch up to them
but the world is a riddle, a violent femme

like a rose like no other
only blossoms once a year
i say that i'll find her
when i finally find myself here
in the midst of the rapids
the goldmine of dust
the burning intrepid
oh god how i must

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