Fairy Jolie

I dodge again the real world  – full of terror and killings and strong ‘negative portions’ in the news headlines and I opt for a walk down, back along the stream, where the sounds are of frogs and crickets and birds and rippling water over some lazy rocks, just sitting there, shiny smooth.

If I were a fairy, that’s where I’d go…..but who knows, maybe every fairy’s different.

Fairy Jolie

Sitting on a root ‘neath a large oak tree
down along the stream, at the bottom of the hill,
she sat all alone, sobbing, drinking grass tea
sitting on a root ‘neath a large oak tree.
I hid in the grass as she tangled with a bee
who quickly left,  leaving her still
sitting on a root ‘neath  a large oak tree
down along the stream,  at the bottom of the hill.

Standing up now and looking around,
her eyes gazing straight across the stream.
She’s a wisp in the wind, nary a pound,
standing up now and looking around.
What should I do in this moment, profound?
I don’t want to scare away this dream,
standing up now and looking around
her eyes gazing straight across the stream.

Dancing o’er the reflection, down in the stream
splashing the water with her feet,
her pointed ears turn to the flash of a beam
dancing o’er the reflection, down in the stream.
Cautiously panning, each move is a scheme
still daintily fluttering to a dragonfly’s beat.
Dancing o’er the reflection, down in the stream
splashing the water with her feet.

Waving at the dragonfly then flying towards the sun
where I watched her ‘til my eyes couldn’t see,
I ran down to the water where I saw her having fun
waving at the dragonfly then flying towards the sun.
The dragonfly, still ‘dancing’ there, I swear, said she would come
to dance -just whisper her name, though, nevermore have I seen, Jolie,
waving at the dragonfly then flying towards the sun
where I watched her ‘til my eyes couldn’t see

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

Cottonwood Stream

If I write a song for you
and speak of beauty rare
the words I use will all be true
if I write a song for you.
Each word will tell a different view
and paint a picture soft and fair
if I write a song for you
and speak of beauty rare.

Sitting by the lazy stream
leaning ‘gainst the cottonwood
my guitar grabs a sunlight  beam
sitting by the lazy stream
and in that moment, as in a dream
she fluttered in time to my Brazilian wood
Sitting by the lazy stream
leaning ‘gainst the cottonwood

It’s nice down here along the stream
on spring like days when she drops by
and even if it’s just a dream,
it’s nice down here along the stream.
and while I know, it’s quite extreme
her mystic beauty, I can’t deny
It’s nice down here along the stream
on spring like days when she drops by

Waking me gently with fluttering wing
brushing her self ‘cross my eye,
she winks and smiles from the guitar string
waking me gently with fluttering wing.
And I feel thankful for these days of spring
and for dreams and for her….the butterfly
waking me gently with fluttering wing
brushing her self  ‘cross my eye.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

Down in Baxter County

Being fascinated with geography, the earth’s physical beauties continue to mesmerize me.  As wind, heat and water erode valuable topsoil , it exposes clues in the earth’s past like possible  dinosaur habitats.

Watching rivers, themselves, are fascinating because of the excitement they provide for people for whatever reason….fishing, photographing migratory birds, skiing or even….. white-water rafting.

Down in Baxter County

Down in Baxter County where the river turns west,
and cuts a path along the limestone ridge,
the wind’s uncovered dinosaur tracks up along the crest,
down in Baxter County where the river turns west.
The river’s tier of rapids challenge rafters at their best,
and entertain spectators along the bridge,
down in Baxter County where the river turns west
and cuts a path along the limestone ridge.

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

The Mississippi

As a young man, I lived on the Missouri River up in the Dakotas.  That must be why I have such an affinity for rivers and especially the Mighty Mo’ and the beautiful, Mississippi River.  It still captivates me.

The Mississippi

The Mississippi flows
and stirs imagination.
Through heat of summer and winter snows
the Mississippi flows.
When one first sees her, one then knows,
as she swells in sweet flirtation
The Mississippi flows
and stirs imagination.

copyright © 2011 T.J. Gargano