The Ghosts of St. Augustine

Ghosts of St. Augustine by Dave Schipper © 2006 Rose Riversongs

The ghosts of St. Augustine are an eerie sight
On rooftops, porches, and trees they come out at night
They walk this ancient ground, while their stories are told
By guides with lanterns, recounting tales of old.

The white gown of the bride
The candle in the night
The widow on the stairs
The renters Miss Faye scares

Ghosts of St. Augustine
Are the sights to be seen
Walk the cobblestone streets
And enjoy whom you meet

Pass the Bishop’s shrine and see the wayward bride
Who terrified those children tenting that night
Woke them with a cold hand brought screams and bone chills
Now she walks alone, mourning a love unfulfilled.

As guest G-Men talked, the innkeeper knew the plan
She gave the smuggler signal with lantern in hand.
Today her lost soul slips past the boarded entry
To the sea, Her hooded figure waves a sentry

Shade

Shade is nature’s black hole for stress.
A good breeze and song in the air
Fills the soul like a warm caress.

Ah today is just a mere moment to begin
To rethink or even change on a dare.
Just thinking about it; paints on a big grin.

Should love really be openly shared?
Isn’t it just the passionate lure of skin?
But what if it meant we honestly cared?

I’ll let the answers evaporate in the wind.
Wrap up my relaxation neatly for later.
And be glad my yesterdays weren’t so thin.


By Dave Schipper
© 2009 Rose Riversongs

The Hunt

I’ll trade mischief for quiet air
Wrestling for solitaire
November comes round once a year
This time, it’ll be all mine.

I might sound a bit insincere
Lose my mom of the year
But the truck is loaded with gear
And they’re off to shoot deer.

No dirty boxers in my path
No shouted curses over math
I’ll light candles, take a bath
Then buy shoes and new bag
But I’ll hug them when they're back

I waited awhile for those boys
My man and the little joys
To grow old enough to enjoy
The hunt, together for a week.

Now the cats and I have the house
I’ll sit around in just my blouse
They’ll nibble his mounted grouse.
I’ll maybe a visit a boutique.

No dirty boxers in my path
No shouted curses over math
I’ll light candles, take a bath
Then buy shoes and new bag
But I’ll hug them when they're back

Dedicated to Becky Schlegel by Dave Schipper © 2009 Rose Riversongs.

Baby Blue

The faces of Baby Blue filled disk drives
She was laid out, sad and even holding knives
The lady took to any subject matter head-on
As poetic pause in the Gospel of John

If flesh means the stripped down honesty
Then she shared truth with no modesty
Though the absence of fabric did not release her
She envisioned her pink skin as a mink fur

Baby Blue is completely aware
Baby Blue says her prayers
Baby Blue lives in solitaire
Baby Blue wishes you were there.

Baby Blue healed strained little affairs.
She laid out all deals, and got them square.
But before the moment ended a photo taken
Years later they swear they were mistaken.

Digital pixels captured even complex days
Saved and shared to strangers in many ways
She shrugs her shoulders, and laughs it off
The lady dismisses stress with a little cough.

Baby Blue is a saint, I swear
Baby Blue is in my prayers
Baby Blue has my a solitaire
Baby Blue, I wish you were here.

I can dance the night away in pale bock
Any memory can be jarred with a walk
I can watch the gold grain fields dance
But wish instead to be caught in your glance.

Baby Blue will never leave, and always there
A google image search and all will be bared
A Lady frozen in time, in picture, and mind
She’ll always be the rarest of form you’ll find.

Baby Blue is much to aware
Baby Blue is in most prayers
Baby Blue lives in solitaire
Baby Blue is there when you care.

(c) 2009 Dave Schipper Rose Riversongs.

I saw you

I saw you yesterday in another woman’s body
I caught myself almost reaching out to hug her.
Her eyes were windows back to your soul.
Her style mirrored your playfulness.

So today I sit and ponder it all over again
So today all the time passed has faded to days
Your voice cracked with the words, “I’m leaving”
Your glance and words went lower.

We both knew what you had couldn’t be replaced
We both knew that wouldn’t make a difference
Yes we’ll stay in touch through all the new ways
Yes we’ll work out any of the old details.

But even still pictures will get fewer.
But time may make us forget each other
Oh that sure was you yesterday
Oh and yes I still miss you.

© 2009 Dave Schipper Rose Riversongs