Country Boys and Country Girls

Image by June Perkins

A song lyric

Country boys and country girls
dream more than sugar cane.
Country boys and country girls
want more than endless rain.

They’re picking stars from skies above.
They’re catching pieces of the moonlight.
They’re running to the canopies
of light.

Country boys and country girls
often hide their pain
but they’re still holding
onto all their dreams
looking into the firelight
to find the global streams.

They’re picking stars from skies above
They’re catching pieces of the moonlight
They’re running to the canopies of light.

Country boys and country girls
often leave these towns
‘cause when the pickings done
there’s too few jobs around
and when a cyclone’s been
it’s even harder still
but now they’ve just got to
have a stronger will.

So they’re leaving behind the sugar cane
they’re saying goodbye
to endless rain
And they’re still looking
for the canopies of light.

Country boys and country girls
they’ve long left these towns
and now they’re longing
for that precious rain,
picking up the pieces of their lives
dancing under starlit skies.

They’re dreaming of the sugar cane
and they’re longing for the precious rain
and they’re still looking
for the canopies of light.

They’re picking stars from skies above.
They’re catching pieces of the moonlight.

They’re running to
the canopies of light.

(c) June Perkins

No Geometry

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(c)Image June Perkins

The rain itself hath no geometry, no limits, no form, but it taketh on one form or another, according to the restrictions of its vessel. In the same way, the Holy Essence of the Lord God is boundless, immeasurable, but His graces and splendours become finite in the creatures…

-`Abdu’l-Baha, Selections From the Writings of `Abdu’l-Baha

For more see Nineteen Months

Hot Day Jazz

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Trumpet player – by June Perkins

Hot day like a trumpet blast
of melodic riffs that rise but
never quite fall;

each note finally dripping into
a sweat drop
going flip flop on
the pavement.

Overheated notes trying to
keep the jazz afloat
fingers that won’t stop
pushing the buttons
in the search for cool.

Trumpet Boy 92013-05-011

Calling out for the cool change
seeking the release from the water key
brass melt away
hot day.

Trumpet make the people
rain dance
pump the pavement
with their call for cool.

(c) June Perkins

And now it’s time for the extended metaphor poem.  I’ve been looking forward to this one.