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

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

Lady Mary & Matthew Crawley spring reading

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

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

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