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Smokin'Jayz

trade winds blow
on my face
rain clouds tell
me it may be
stormy
your look tells
another story

So tell me
from which distant lands
you've touched the sands
oh how nice

It seems my day is weary
autumn's breath slides
slow

The elders of Oak
tell stories,
above, beyond, and
below

So tell me
how has this come to pass
my prophecy, your alas.
and then we'll tell the moon.

Wilder eyes have told
stories fit for kings,
lurid bards with
flutes and ale sing
to supple creatures under
the sea

rain cloud come back to me
rain cloud come back
to me

my rainy day sunshine

 

potheadreturns2

indeed!

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