Saturday, September 12, 2009

Old Heart, New Song


The music man weaves his magic
Blesses the word with soulful sound
How does the wordsmith let him know
The beauty he holds within his hand
I find it very hard to say
The words that well within
You’ve touched a dreamers fantasy
However do I say to thee
You have lit the light I see
You’ve bought to wing the song

I made a friend just yesterday
Who has given me tomorrow
Found the words I had to say
A blend of joy and sorrow
A poets lilt
From it you built, a hope
That takes this aging heart to flight
It soars with joy in sheer delight
I am the word
You are the song
Sing me

By Joy Faulkner

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