Array ( [sid] => 155526 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Sir Kleetas and the Brown-Eyed Raven [time] => 2009-12-01 10:45:03 [hometext] => [bodytext] => She calms my rough waters That lady so blind I fight with the angels The mystical kind
The water it boils When she flips her tail Searching for sustanance in my empty pail
Her spirit is rising As mine does the same We hold fins together On physical planes
We cover our work Of ten-thousand eggs My knees would be weak If I had two legs
But I'm not a walker Who covers the land I am a road warrior Of metal not sand
My Bonny it sputters It comes to a stop I look in the gas tank But see not a drop
I knock on a door And who should I meet American Woman who bows to Sir Kleet
We fly to Chicago Then onto the East Three-hundred flyers On this steeley beast
We land in London Then onto the 'Pool We load both racebikes And plenty of tools
Then onto the Seacat Cross angry green foam Two hours later The both of us home
We walk in the moonlight I kiss her sweet hand I'm home with my Queen On our island of Mann [comments] => 0 [counter] => 145 [topic] => 40 [informant] => kleetas [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fantasy ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Sir Kleetas and the Brown-Eyed Raven


Sir Kleetas and the Brown-Eyed Raven
Date: Tuesday, 1st December 2009 @ 10:45:03 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: kleetas
She calms my rough waters That lady so blind I fight with the angels The mystical kind
The water it boils When she flips her tail Searching for sustanance in my empty pail
Her spirit is rising As mine does the same We hold fins together On physical planes
We cover our work Of ten-thousand eggs My knees would be weak If I had two legs
But I'm not a walker Who covers the land I am a road warrior Of metal not sand
My Bonny it sputters It comes to a stop I look in the gas tank But see not a drop
I knock on a door And who should I meet American Woman who bows to Sir Kleet
We fly to Chicago Then onto the East Three-hundred flyers On this steeley beast
We land in London Then onto the 'Pool We load both racebikes And plenty of tools
Then onto the Seacat Cross angry green foam Two hours later The both of us home
We walk in the moonlight I kiss her sweet hand I'm home with my Queen On our island of Mann

This poem is Copyright © kleetas


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