Weaver Of Words

Weaver Of Words

Where is the gardener of wondrous stories?
I would know more of his loves and many past glories.
His body is worn but spirit is strong.
I would hear of his tales in exchange for a song.
I call out “Old man ! where then have you gone”
Only buzzing of wings on the manicured lawn
The silver comfort of the fountain is lacking
At once on the chair the old man sits laughing
“ It seems but an age since you’ve come to my home.
I fear I must travel but I’ll not walk alone.
I go with my loves my friends and family,
And youth has returned, I’m once more the dandy.
I must ride the train to a faraway station.
I travel so grand I’m filled with elation.
But I fear my dear friend are parting is nigh
I have only tarried to wish you goodbye
Yet to say goodbye seems such a sin
Instead I will say until we meet again.”
I turned for a moment and my dear friend was gone
Fading away was a heavenly song.
I cried at his absence as I stumbled on home
Then spied a star that flew from his home
I new all at once he was where he belonged
I shall treasure my friend his stories and songs.


© 2016 Michael James Garland