Chirp As A Quail - On My Trail
If my good ol' Plymouth Barracuda ain't here,
probably I 'm driving and drinking beer
I am picking a song in that Juke Box
just because my gas deposit suffers loss.
I may be dancing in this cloudy dimension
but my mind already is absent in suspension
who took my Barracuda rims? My esteems
are kinda lost, so I resign from Los Alamos.
I am dancing my demure dance, or blindly
I see no gals. To accompany my lore tally
or even more, to dance, I 'll invite my horse
we 'll entangle in this, maybe an Albatross?
Anyway I dance like never, and I hop-jump
in this liquor bar. Till coming mornings sun up
I 'll be jingling my boots and shiny spurs
dancing on your wooden Mahogany stairs.
If you wish to entangle and kindly whir
a cantankerous Longhorn 's my herds steer
Come morning honey I shall be on the trail
if you wish to call me, chirp as a quail.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
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