WITHOUT MY BARD

WITHOUT MY BARD

I dislike those days
When my “bard” seems “out to lunch”,
When he simply sits and plays,
And never has a hunch
Concerning life as it goes on;
Not one simply thought to give
While he is up and out, and I’m alone;
Not helping me to be, to give, to live?

How am I to write a verse
About that “nothing” he left to write?
I don’t even dare rehearse
A line of “nothing now in sight”!
So, I guess it’s mine to sit and wait
Until my bard comes home,
A trying task I dearly hate,
But when he’s gone, my thoughts do roam.

Perhaps I need to walk around,
See the people, skirt the town,
See the trees and flowers too,
Hear the people, see what they do,
Listen quietly for his voice,
Telling me to make a choice
Of the words I’ll blend today
That some may hear what I say.
Orion N. Lewis 8-11-06