Seven Bridges, Seven Tales

In seven minutes, seven miles breeze by
To my right, the old road beckons
Seven bridges, and seven stories
For my delight, if I just listen.

Lizzy,
Lizzy paid no attention to crickets
But that gun shot made her jump.
Crazy Bill McGilvary shouted
“Dem swamp rattlers!
Liz listen up next time
They sound just like crickets!”







7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.



Davey,
Davey just had an itch to fish
But he had chores galore.
Ma’s fresh pie served as a bribe
And little Jim, he won’t mind
He’ll do the chores just fine
While he finds time to fish.






7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.


Joanie
Joanie had a hankerin for fun
Like a red shouldered hawk
She swooped in on Henry
“Kee Year” she mimicked.
In the bottomland grass,
She rolled with her new hun.





7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Billy,
Billy cursed that bridge from hell.
Clinton embossed the back of his neck
As he hung motionless from the A frame.
Damn riverboat gamblers
Took his life savings
So he hung there a spell.








7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.



Tommy,
Tommy never really came back
So he made these swamps his home.
Nam killed more than his hearing
He lost trust in people
They say the lost site of him
As waded out in the river named Black.








7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.

Ritchie
Ritchie mumbled “How did this happen?
Rental piece of shit,” but he hated flying.
Aw a strawberry stand, and a latin beauty.
“Two bits for sweet carazon.”
“Precious what’s your name”
“Oh they call me Donna”






7 minutes, 7 miles
7 bridges, 7 tales.


Albert,
Albert was nineteen in 1865
At the Spanish Fort battle in ‘Bama.
He was 90 when they laid him down
Four miles from the bridge
He and Rynert used to fish
Sure wished he would have survived.










In seven minute, seven miles breezed by
To my right, the old road beckoned
Seven bridges, and seven stories
For your delight, if you listened.





by Dave Zeman (c) 2009 Rose Riversongs





Story behind the song can be read at http://songwriting202.blogspot.com Originally posted June 26, 2009; I thought this was perfect way to remember the fallen soldiers, and the ones that came home and lived with the war a little bit longs.

Photo Credits

Swamp Rattler -massasauga, Red Shouldered Hawk, Historical Marker, Ritchie Valens, Green Mound Cemetary, Bridges & Swamp, Riverboat Gambler

Lady in Blue

She fixated on a venomous moment
Surrounded by a harried world.
Just sits alone with her personal torment.
A bottle of Jack numbs the senses
Maybe she’ll go dress up with pearls tonight
Hit the bars and take some chances.


The lady in blue has a life to choose.
The lady in blue stuck in Hollywood.
The lady in blue turns to look away
The lady in blue will find a way.

Her tall and slender frame turns heads
She’s learned to ignore them easily
But with this she’s added a hard edge.
An armor of cold disdain for true love
She can crush those who come weakly
Leaving her left with the just the stuff.


The lady in blue has a life to choose.
The lady in blue stuck in Hollywood.
The lady in blue turns to look away
The lady in blue will find a way.

A trickle of hope is never really gone
She was raised with grace and joy
But left it behind to write her song
The lady bumps into life in the dark
Will she choose to notice or be coy?
And in the end she’s just make a choice.

Lady in Blue by Dave Schipper © 2007/10 Rose Riversongs Photos from myspace.com/hopewaits

a quick video for me to remember it...

Sly Wave

Tonight I stared at a salmon blue gray sky
As it bid me goodbye; I smiled.
Why is it the goodbyes that we remember?

I can remember that sly wave you gave,
Was it a reflex gesture, just a twitch?
My mind thought it more repressed allure.

Oh maybe too much poetry adds fiction.
It tries to add traction to feelings
And a ceiling and wall to elusive love.

So I walked on with a painted smirk
Oh to act like a jerk is not in the cards
And on que, a full moon rose in the east.

By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs

I am Here

That box of wine ain’t big enough for me to drown in

But I wade through it to find life on the other side.

On the other bank I leave that old life for a night of sin

Though I prefer to call it a guilt free unabashed thrill ride.


Funny how even the best freeing intentions are consumed

Not with guilt, not with lust, but with a flicker of love flame.

Though I cry, whine and whallow for that special doom

I’m brought back to silence and tender thoughts so tame.


I am here, I was there.

In that minute, you were aware

I am here, You are there.

In this moment, I own dispair.


I will not preach to the choir and correct our harmonies

If we walk in step though distant, I will embrace that gift

Unlike the dictator of good and evil, I strive for ease

I will hold my inner cries for an absence of rift.


Though I keep coming back, like a penny or a boomerang

It’s hollow without words that can bind emotions like mortar

So while I hear the words, I sit in my corner with no harangue

I’m at peace, but in the mirror I see my life grown shorter.


I am here, I was there.

In that minute, you were aware

I am here, You are there.

In this moment, I own dispair.


By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs