If Only I Could Raise The Dead

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Forever grateful I would be,

If you would but come back to me,

Haunt my life,

Make it again worthwhile,

And bring upon my lips a smile.

Feel free to be a weekend visitor,

Or a constant in my world,

I’ll take anything my friend,

Just to unite with you again.

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If you feel like coming home,

I won’t tell anyone you’re here,

So next time you decide to roam,

I hope you end up near.

Don’t you worry,

Your place has been saved,

Never to be taken by another,

Now what are you waiting for,

To knock upon my door?

I’ve heard that these things happen,

And I know if you appeared again,

Wrongs would right themselves,

And this life full of desolation,

Would soon be dazzlingly bright.

It’s a sure-fire bet,

If you’d show your silhouette,

It would brighten my days,

Better than Florida’s sun rays.

If you’re waiting on an invitation,

Well here it is:

“You are invited”!

And for more than a vacation,

I’ll see that the way is lighted,

If you be sure your journey gets expedited.

New England Pony/Southern Horse: A Barn Conversation

“Where is the cold?

And where is the fluffy, powdery snow?

I’m only a pony,

So maybe I don’t know,

But it seems to me,

It’s been warm and sunny,

For long enough,

That something is funny”.

“Just what in the hell is snow?

I mean,

Not to sound like an ass,

But all I’ve ever seen,

Is this here green grass,

I’m only a horse,

And I’d not accuse you of lying,

Of course,

But snow is something,

That does not sound believable,

And so I just don’t know”.

“It falls silently,

Not making a sound,

And covers the ground,

For miles and miles around,

When a lot comes at once,

It’s at times up to my chest,

The whole field is slippery,

If I’m lucky and get out of my stall,

I must hope not to fall,

And that’s at best,

As I may not get out that day at all,

I may be stuck inside,

Bored all day,

Staring at the wall”.

“Are you telling me that There,

White powder falls in place of rain?

And instead of making bothersome noises,

Like splashing on the ground,

Or pounding on the roof,

The only sounds are silence,

And this fluffy, powdery substance,

Is cold and there to stay”?

“Absolutely,

Though it’s not around forever,

Just when I get to thinking,

That it is leaving never,

Warmer days begin,

Then for awhile there is rain and mud,

But after a few weeks of that crud,

The weather’s just like Here,

There’s hot and humid air,

And green grass that beats yours,

Is again everywhere”.

“I’m having trouble,

Conjuring in my mind a picture,

Of such a weather mixture,

Excuse me if I snicker,

It’s not that I don’t take your word,

But this sounds absurd,

And in truth it leaves me puzzled”.

“It’s really no big deal,

I merely wondered where it was,

I love that there’s no snow,

I just didn’t know,

This year-round summertime,

Could truly be for real”.

“Even though,

We’ve gone our separate ways,

I vividly remember,

Our conversation that day,

Now I’m living in a place,

That gets cold like She described,

And what do you know,

There really is a thing called snow,

The first time I experienced it,

It caught me by surprise,

I could not believe my eyes,

That pony had not lied”.