Hayley

Hayley

L. Edgar Otto   ( posted  Monday, 19 August, 2013 )


Why do you treat me like a brother, call me friend
Guess our gentle kisses made no difference
Little Mama, Honey Chile, Sweet Pal of Mine
Guess I just couldn't be
              ... your peace of mind

Now I blamed your tipsy mother for you time of troubled sin
and I damned your gypsy father for leaving you abandoned
But there's and end to finding fault, naked you and me
Bumbled thru our brambled bed our hearts not free
               ... just like them

So Hayley, don't you go all holy on me
Don't paint me like the Devil pointing out the worst in me
Nor treat me like a holy man too pure for the touch
I might be your human eyes but not your helpless crutch
Human eyes... not helpless crutch

Now I don't mean to mess up your beautiful dream
There's much in Gothic images the pure heart redeems
But we must suffer sister suffer like beads upon a chant
Lose ourselves in our own will we never can recant
Lose ourselves... be born again

I know your denigm rose is an earthly shade of blue
and your leather bounded Bible really comforts you
But how I long to follow you like you follow Him and
wear those pilgrim overalls and sing those Surrey hymns...

So Hayley ... ... ...

* * * *

Lyrics for the Toad poets 

Note: in a comment I replied I was waiting for a bus with groceries on one of your poems which captured the moment and feelings of the experience, things in a distant part of town waiting long and reminding me of those moods and times of uncertainty and strange places foreboding on the road.

By the way  Hayley is not written for a real person as a subject of love...  she is really a child not conceived or born when matters of faith changed things in the face of life...

Here is the picture of the mundane bus stop as the moon rose...