Thursday, October 20, 2005

5 for silver, 6 for gold.

"winter is coming" i said.
im just trying to build a fire,
cover up the ashes of longing
watch the beauty in smoke and spire
a song around the camp,
as we all wait to retire,
nevermore till neverless,
clean our boots of muck and mire,
a golden age a pricless page,
that we write until we expire,
i am trying so hard to play my cards,
just a bluffer on a wire.
till winters bloom, soon huddled in room
for story tellers to inspire,
he tells his song from night till dawn,
we hope him not a liar,
we pray for fate, to open the gate,
of our hearts own desire.
while me and I sit cuddling by,
we're just trying to build a fire." - TM