Thinking of Otis Redding…
There's a slow-moving front come in,
can you smell the flowers?
Yes, a slow-moving front's come in,
I been sittin' here for hours.
The leaden sky is darkly gray,
pregnant with spring showers.
Jogging my slow-moving frontal lobe,
from dreamy ivory towers.
Trying to compose my thoughts,
while making bridal bowers.
Slow-moving front's dragging by,
reflecting all my sorrows.
Slow moving job hunt passing by,
I been sittin' here in a haze.
Eatin' all my equity,
can't seem to change my ways.
Until that damn front passes by,
and I'll again see brighter days.
Photo Courtesy Gympie Weather.com
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My Place
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Copyright 2006 © Ronald W. Hull
4/29/06