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George Lewis Avery

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Hearken! Can You not hear?
That which assails thine pleasant ear
A windblown lyric. You must adhere it
Lend an ear that you might hear it

Of babbling brooks and whisp'ring shadows
Of roving hills and winding meadows
Twisting and twining it's wandering way
Wreathing and rolling endlessly

Uttering words of the ancient Greats
Chanting balladries of their fates
T'is the song that dreams are made of
T'is the wine that poets sup of

Tales of tragic love and lore
Of death and life, and much, much more
Stifling the fears of human strife
Fueling the flames of mortal life

Ere I tarry, I must away
I must pursue yon tranquil lay
A pretense this, my demise
I'm but attired in spectral guise

My soul is that of yon welkin hue
Mine essence, the essence of vapor blue
My song is but a breath of air
My world comprises the atmosphere

So lend an ear if you doth dare it
My song is near, you have only to hear it

.oeg ©

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