the pretty little girl and the hen...

there once was a pretty little girl
with a head full of long ringlet curls

satin ribbons and bows adorned her long hair
she much preferred just going all bare

the mother dressed her in crispy white frocks
pretty white sandals and sheer sheer socks
 

layers and layers of ruffles she wore
she hated it all when she was but four
    
staying inside was not her thing
she’d much rather be out on the big rope swing

pleasing the mother though was what she did
after all, she was just a little kid

then one day the mother left for a while
and out the door she raced with a smile

under the big oak tree she did sit
playing in the grass she could not quit

she sat and sat and wiggled her toes
and watched the clouds row after row

dreaming and floating and dreaming some more
all she wanted was the mother to love to adore

she thought if she had just one special gift
the mother’s dark mood surely would lift    

she loved the chirps of the little birds
if only she could sing without words

so she blew and blew and blew again
before she knew it she heard a sweet strain

again and again the sounds whispered through her lips
now she’d surely win the mother’s kiss

pleasing the mother was what she wanted to do
after all, she was just a little kid who needed love too

then the mother came home to her delight
and with her gift to make things bright

the little girl whistled and whistled with all her might
but the mother just looked down with her mouth all tight

 

and said to the pretty little girl

with the ringlet curls

a whistling woman and a crowing hen
always come to a very bad end!

little boys blue...

little boys blue

sinners sittin’ in a jail house row
prayin’ to a god they don’t know

readin’ the book of all the rules
but none of them have all the tools

innocence lost in sandbox play
never had nothin’ to save their day

no mother’s kiss to seal their nights
no daddy’s love to show the light

little boys lost at what a cost
lives without love now trampled and tossed

so they sit in solemn quiet
all dressed alike in prison white

faces turned up lookin’ for grace
ain’t got much time for this life’s race

arms held high for them pearly gates
searchin’ for salvation ‘fore it’s too late

heart’s singin’ sweet till kingdom come
ain’t gotta chance till servin’ is done

cross-ways art in ink on canvas flesh
ain’t enough to git outta this mess

men still boys now at the end
worderin’ if their souls will mend

wantin’ to taste of the water sweet
wadin’ to heaven in their bare feet

dreamin’ of love and another life’s dance
lookin’ to god for a second chance
                       
little boys blue
what to do

would you like to hear these words spoken?

the moment...

there is
always
one moment
in
childhood
when
the door opens
and
lets
the
future
in