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 Carolina highlands, I love thee so,
Where, from mine humble forest perch, I spy, The colors of thy quilt in vivid show, And gentle woman seemingly awry, Free with flight, I glide to nearby twig, To find despondent pose and heavy sighs, Appearing as poor widowed goddess, Frigg, With song, I ask, “What reason for these cries?” “I see you there,” she says, “Do not mind me, I’m merely seeking peace from troubled ways, I fear my only option is to flee, As one and only cure for this malaise.” “I see,” say I, with ruffled feather preen, "For now, I gladly sit with thee, my queen." - Scott Alexander McKenzie  You say: the world, it doth bewilder me,
I am now new and these are complex things, E’en bloodied scrape ‘pon this but youthful knee, Commixed in pain; with raw confusion brings, I say: those moraled stories writ by thee, What scrawled in ebb tide sand with driftwood wand, Were simply passing whims ‘fore life’s great sea, Returned to He, not ye, who was unfond, You see not me, nor do you seem to care, As I for you in my lamenting ways, To enterprising deed, worthwhile affair, Just trav’ler caught in unrelenting haze, Oh, me! I call to rooms devoid of thee, Hear mine hallowed call: let thine eyes see! - Scott Alexander McKenzie |
Scott
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To my muse... thank you.
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scott@mckenzie-writer.com
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© 2021 Scott Alexander McKenzie
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