A story for and from any rambling boys abound

(from a windy mountaintop in Conemarra)


During my restful homebound days, I paint the road abroad
a green of grasses fences divide
some sheen of unattained...
let the tongue of travel unravel, let me crawl from this mouth of rest
eager to pave a road of love with bricks of lust I am sure
through dark desert, over mountains I will pace,
I will make it to the mirage, that novel glisten that miles could not distance.
but on arrival it seems that these hedonistic wings have fanned
flames to embers and drooled hot coals to cool.
So beware when feeding the rambling soul, rambling man beware
don't go digging graves and forgo gold for glistens in the distance
know that some mirages melt in hands, are only candy for the soul
learn to moderate a lustful binge, dont go dulling eyes familiar.
because that thirsty tickle
might turn to a numb rub
and at last a callous separates you from the touch that you once loved.



- Ev







Don't let the reflective verse give the wrong imdpression, I am having a great time!!