She loves to write about the sun
The setting of it
The rising of it
Each breath a child takes
Each piercing sound
Each line of regret
Why not write about
The man she loved the most?
Why not rhyme and shine writing about him?
Maybe because she knows
That the tree is beginning to wither
And she caterwauls
She could weep for hours for the death of a nation’s hero
Why not stop and just stare….stop and just stare at the wilting
Of her unsung hero?
Only a beat keeps him away from the place and time
That will forever take him away from the lady’s heart
So the lady stops to rhyme…..
To cherish each second, each smile, each sweat, each tear
From the tree, that brought her to this LIFE
The lady refuses to rhyme because….
No other person, no other place and time compares
To the man she calls- her most precious Time and Place and Hero, all rolled into one….
Everything else will have to wait because-
The Man might soon become just another man who walked on these ground
But to her, for her, in her….
The man for now, is the only reason she touches the letters in November…..
Because whatever comes hereafter….he may no longer see, read nor hear
But everything he is for now, for now….will be left in the Lady who calls herself…
The daughter of Francisco….no other name is more beautiful at the moment….none
other…
Francisco…Francisco….Francisco….
Let the Lord guide your hand….
I will be here, forever….your lady..your daughter who for now refuses to rhyme
Because……you deserve all my time….
The setting of it
The rising of it
Each breath a child takes
Each piercing sound
Each line of regret
Why not write about
The man she loved the most?
Why not rhyme and shine writing about him?
Maybe because she knows
That the tree is beginning to wither
And she caterwauls
She could weep for hours for the death of a nation’s hero
Why not stop and just stare….stop and just stare at the wilting
Of her unsung hero?
Only a beat keeps him away from the place and time
That will forever take him away from the lady’s heart
So the lady stops to rhyme…..
To cherish each second, each smile, each sweat, each tear
From the tree, that brought her to this LIFE
The lady refuses to rhyme because….
No other person, no other place and time compares
To the man she calls- her most precious Time and Place and Hero, all rolled into one….
Everything else will have to wait because-
The Man might soon become just another man who walked on these ground
But to her, for her, in her….
The man for now, is the only reason she touches the letters in November…..
Because whatever comes hereafter….he may no longer see, read nor hear
But everything he is for now, for now….will be left in the Lady who calls herself…
The daughter of Francisco….no other name is more beautiful at the moment….none
other…
Francisco…Francisco….Francisco….
Let the Lord guide your hand….
I will be here, forever….your lady..your daughter who for now refuses to rhyme
Because……you deserve all my time….
