Poetry

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If So;could i be that shell,that follow the
winding road;that i got to know so well,before the
dawn of any Morn,leave a door that is now very far,
and seek what's there on grassy field,where footfall's
yield,how late you come no work yet done,a poor excuse
said MR. none;become the knower or teller of tale's
and yet who knows what Life may offer,too someone
who lives their life so good and propper,a Man who
looked like skin the Goat,his dwelling is where
lodger's tell;of tales where others before knew so
well,being free is that forever sign;some Holes in
Boots should help you share those well earned
Truth's,other places may gather traces;of long
lost Faces,God gives to all His Goodly Graces,
Amen said race,s.Joe.

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