Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Pure Fiction

I’m not alone with my thoughts lately.
You are there each time.
And there is no reason for this.
While I find you sublime
Its pure fiction if you know I exist.

Your deep brown eyes are intoxicating.
The dimple when you smile
Your Arabian skin,
Highlight an understated style,
And makes me long to be in

In the inner circle to hear your voice
Social media can picture a slice
Provide context, place, and time
But no plot or script device
Just the red herring kind

So alone with my thoughts I write.
A storyline with plain words
One where two souls listen
Then laugh at the absurd.
Alas it merely, pure fiction.

By Dave Schipper © 2012 Rose Riversongs.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

River Kate

We’re struck by the moon, listenin to the loon
A backwater tune that leaves us to soon

Oh River Kate
Let’s stay out to late, says the moon and the lake.
Oh River Kate
Got some time to wait, It’s sure no mistake.

The stories to tell, neath the old willow.
They got the same feel, as our own pillow.
Leave the bills behind, you don’t need a dime
I’ve got some wine, and we’re doin’ fine.

Midnight eyes, tender sighs
Warm embrace, little lace

Oh River Kate
Let’s stay out to late, says the moon and the lake.
Oh River Kate
Got some time to wait, It’s sure no mistake.

So we’re just moon struck, sittin in the truck
Whistlin with the loon, then leavin to soon.

River Kate by Dave Schipper © Rose River Songs 2004

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

The Dance

The dance of the life, the chance of time
Ages of man and woman have written
Pages and pages of nonsense to fill the subject

Still the real bells and whistles are not simple
Complicated motions seen, not seen, ventured
And not ventured because they are imagined.

So is the dance a waltz with the windows today?
Is it a solo piece targeted for solemn attention?
As long as the dance continues the story goes on.

So mark the time that the sonata ended
Depart the performance gallery until next time
Was the performance real or just for show.

© Dave Schipper Rose Riversongs. 2012

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The tree

The tree on Fourth and Main
Will turn 80 next week.
Of course the passerby’s
Don’t know or care;
But she did just like
Yesterday.

She was turning 87
Next week and feeling
A step away from heaven
Yet the memory is fresh
Right after school the first
Warm day.

Eighty years ago in spring
Dad said, “We need a tree
Out there this year.”
Mom wanted blossoms
Something purple
And bright.

Dad wanted just a steady oak,
She exclaimed “no shade for years,
And just attracts squirrels”
Ah but we’re here
For the long haul and
He won.

Dad nurtured the tree making
It stronger every year until
It stands tall in a city
Still small overlooking the
Mighty Mississippi
From a hill

So she sighs looking out the window
Its cloudy and no one will come
No visitors today but that’s ok,
Alone like that oak
She sits tall and ponders
Her history.

By Dave Schipper © 2012 Rose Riversongs

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Ten Second Memory







Today a chapter played though my head
During the ten seconds our eyes met.
The story moved from tense to intense
But conversation stayed at nonsense.

Why is it that people can’t scream outloud
The feelings they hold so proud.
Yes, we’ll go one working the same
But smile when we hear each other’s name.

So today you’ve made a memory
With eyes like polished emery
It leaves me only to ponder
If my brown eyes made you wonder


By Dave Schipper © 2007 Rose Riversongs

Saturday, March 3, 2012

The Eyes of March waltz












The eyes of this March morn
Are the eyes of a sultress
A lady, and an actress

Her picture captured the day
The grays were there
But sparkled so aware

Spin, spoon, sing to June
March will move on
So April, be gone.

Spin, Spoon, sing this tune
To March’s gray eyes
The smiles, the sighs.

Her eyes danced up to me
With her smile she protrayed
The promise of a spring day

She bloomed pinks and blues
The grays were gone
Replaced with sweet song

Spin, spoon, sing to June
March will move on
So April, be gone.

Spin, Spoon, sing this tune
To March’s gray eyes
The smiles, the sighs.

by Dave Schipper (c) 2012/2009 Rose Riversongs

Photo of Lady Grantham or Elizabeth McGovern

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Rising Eagle

Earth’s heart beat pulses inside
The century’s stories are etched in stone.
The sky is within my arm’s reach
While I walk my spiritual path alone.

Pierce my heart
Release the stars
My spirit’s found
My hidden path
Pierce my heart
And I will start
Singing songs
All journey long

I listen to the choir of nature.
Surrounded in smoke from a distant fire
I take on wings and ascend high
Above the pines and mighty fir

Above the trees I see the truth
The great one is in harmony with us
She’s writing a story in epic length
But I worry we’ve lost her trust.


by Dave Schipper © 2007 Rose Riversongs

Wounded Heart

Your warming smile is light, in the morn, in the morn.
Forbidden love is planted and born.
What secrets your dark eyes, reveal thru your disguise.
My wounded heart rests in your arms, in your arms.
My wounded heart rests in your arms.

Love is a soft light,
A wind in the night
Words can be a call
The softest of all.
But you in the end
Are lover and friend.
But you in the end
Are lover and friend.

Time is a fleeting wind, thru my soul, thru my soul.
Just grains of sand to try and hold.
Was it yesterday, when you asked me to stay
My wounded heart has no control, no control.
My wounded heart has no control

My wounded heart
was not torn apart
But batter’d bruised
right from the start.
Now in your eyes
A glint a spark
Ignite a new fire
in this wounded heart.

Love is a soft light,
A wind in the night
Words can be a call
The softest of all.
But we in the end
Are lovers and friends.
But we in the end
Are lovers and friends.

by Dave Schipper © 2006 Rose Riversongs

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Graceful & Grand

Graceful and grand is your beauty
Tender and soft is your white skin
I gaze into your deep dark eyes
To lose myself once again.

There but a moment when we met
You fashioned my heart
In your alchemy

Casted a spell to tear me apart.
You fashioned my heart
In your alchemy

Graceful and grand is your beauty
Tender and soft is your white skin
I gaze into your deep dark eyes
To lose myself once again.

A season must pass until we meet
You stay in my mind
Each night and day

To renew a love more replete
You stay in my mind
Each night and day

Graceful and grand is your beauty
Tender and soft is your white skin
I gaze into your deep dark eyes
To lose myself once again.

By Dave Schipper © 2012 Rose Riversongs
dedicated to Lady Mary Crawley

Graceful

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Belong

I really don’t belong in this crowd
Ha, I fit don’t get me wrong
I’m not their age, and when they turn
They know I don’t belong
In this side of town.

So let’s cut through the chase
I don’t plan on leaving soon.
Maybe it’s my age, I don’t easily spurn
So hey if I don’t belong
There’s a stranger in your town.

By Dave Schipper © 2012 Rose Riversong.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

A high definition world.











I know Jerry and Hawk like big brothers
I’ve kissed Pam more deeply than Jim has
I wander aimlessly through the channels
Storing memories.

Sadly their lives have more definition
Than the ones I meet face to face each day.
Yet don’t hear any contrition in my word
Stories are alive.

I fill in blanks, rewind the looks, retell the lines
Wondering inside what heart really resides
In the real daily passion in their eyes.
Storms and all.

By Dave Schipper © 2012 Rose Riversongs

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Sorry

Sorry ain’t enough,
As it rolls off your cuff.
It’s just a reflects to hide your defects.

You can’t earn her grace
From her wounded face;
She gives it freely, yes freely.

The lies you’ve told
And back stories unfold;
In the shadows doubts creak.

You spin it forward
You little coward;
Writing a new glory filled story.

The hypocrisy
Of our democracy
Beg Christian lies to be gospel

Sorry doesn’t cut it
When hit in the gullet
But smile arrogantly and win the day.

You can’t earn her grace
From her wounded face;
She gives it freely, yes freely.


By Dave Schipper © 2012 Rose Riversongs

Dedicated to all our lying politicians..

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Lady Mary's Eyes



Song was originally written by Janis Ian for the great Irish singer Mary Black , and I rephrased the wonderful song for Lady Mary Crawley from Downton Abbey. I have contacted Janis Ian to let her know I did this to her song, but I claim no ownership for this song or hers, it would not exist without Michelle’s performance of Mary or Janis’ original song.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Mary's Eyes.... rephrased.







Mary's eyes are auburn hue
And her hair's Newcastle gold
And she walks the thin white line between the body and the soul.
She's as faithful to her history
As a servant to his last;
For she's standing on the bones of England’s past.

Chorus:
She's singing of the graces
And the balance of the grand,
'Til I can almost feel my senses slipping through my trembling hand.
And I wonder as I hear her,
That the spirit still shines through
And she can reach across the ocean deep and break my heart in two...

Mary's wise and she is foolish;
She's as constant as the tide.
For it's a woman's heart that beats beneath that stubborn girl’s pride.
We are saints and we are sinners,
We are heros we are theives. We are all of us servants on the road to the abbey.

Chorus

So let us cheer of glass of wine
To the East where Downton lies,
And we will stare across the waters
For a glimpse of Mary's eyes.
We are ships without a harbor,
We are sailors on dry land,
And the show goes on forever
Even though the Crawley’s can't.

Chorus

Originally written by Janis Ian inspired by Mary Black, Rephrased by Dave Schipper without permission… Yet.

Song made popular by Gaelic Storm, here are the original lyrics.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Lady Mary




I know Mary is not for real.
Her perfection perfected in an hour
In costumes selected with zeal
And details down to the flowers.



I cannot live in Mary’s fa├žade
But I breathe in and enjoy it;
Reach out to take her hand
Walk to the garden and sit.

Oh Mary to live in your dream
Would make mortal men melt
I can only wish and scheme
Then wonder how it all felt.

By Dave Schipper © 2012 Roseriversongs

Dedicated to Lady Mary Crawley