there are some songs
late at night
i wish i'd sungs
seen the light
to write...
tom t....watermelon wine
kris... comin' down
guy clarke..in the dark
or others from him
townes van zant...flying shoes
mr. cash... the long black veil
jo0hnny bush...water into wine
and MR. GEorge...the possum
no show jones
choices
and voices
dire straights
romeo & juliet
and so many others
i await
guess i wait to see
the song in me
love their harmony
their memory
their history
but as for me
i have my poetry
guess that's my song
been that all along
so here's to country
hears to the blues
hears to your ears
if you hears
music
poetry
a short story
a mystery
history
are who be
a poem from me
late at night
that just might
suggest
jazz or blues
or country tunes
or attitudes
there are some songs
we hear
without our ear
but with our heart
that part
that chooses to grow near
to the mystery
the history
the song
the poem
the write
late at night
we hear
in our dreams
the glow that gleams
there are some songs
they linger on's
in our memories
some word's are our history
ain't that tha mystery
about the song
about what what went wrong
or right
is that not why we wright
late at night
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to