Rapscallion Blue
Where are you?
Rapscallion Green
Sights unseen
Rapscallion Willow
My head rests on the pillow- wondering if I should go homeward.
As I slam down my fists, I look at my wrists and see no scars from the past
As I lie down my head and I look to the stars, I see we are going nowhere fast
In the morning I wait for the rain and the clouds are like a week old bruise- and the willow tree reaches to the pond on it's right-and the dish ran away with the spoon.
On Tuesday, I feel like walking a way, and am certain that I will never get there.
On Churchday, it rings, and the voices all sing, and I want to know that I can stand there without falling.....
.....to my knees.....,
and the scoundrel calls and the tree falls, and the pond is all murky and grey.
And all I hear is the laughing, and the clouds are all shouting, and the choir is complete that day.
And I know the Rapscallion is the day old bruise- and the cloud you won't let heal you- but the churchebll knows, and the rapscallion goes-and your pond is on your left, and your tree grows back, and the cow jumps over the moon.
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