ManicDDaily

Song below is really a solo.

Morning Song

I woke up this morning
like I wake up most days
wanting to see you
in the worst way.
But what I said then
I cannot unsay
when the road not taken
was washed away.

I think of your fingers.
I think of your hands.
They’re farther now
than the farthest of lands.
A heart that’s forsaken
is here for to stay,
while the road not taken
is washed away.

I scrub at that longing–
treat love like a stain.
Try to rinse out the wanting
those old times again.
But as long as I’m living,
I’ll relive that day
when the road not taken
was washed away.

I woke up this morning
with you on my mind
though it’s long ago now,
reached the end of that line.
Still I wished me so hard–
God help me I prayed–
for the road not taken
to wind back my way.

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Here’s a re-write of an old song/ballad of mine, posted for Kerry O’Connor’s challenge on With Real Toads to write something relating to Robert Frost whose birthday is this month.  This poem is more country western than anything else (I even have sort of a mumbling tune in mind and hence the pic), but there is the Frosting of the road not taken.