You say the truth is what you need
To set your life on solid ground,
But ‘satisfaction guaranteed’
While easy said, is seldom found,

For candor is a poisoned sword,
And honesty it’s own reward;
So better now some truth to lack
Than hurts that can’t be taken back

The Mist Upon the Lea

There is a mist upon the lea,
There is a journey far to make —
There’s one for you, and one for me,
And many diff’rent paths to take

And more: a way that has no trail,
And of it, we must have avail,
To find out what it means to be
Amid the mist upon the lea

A Classic Car

A classic car that takes me back
To times, indeed, ere I was born;
With gleaming chrome and tires black
By beaches on a summer’s morn —

A world from movies only known,
That probably is overblown
Within a mind that pictures bliss
In salad days with rides like this

Past Paris

Past Paris, out near Claye-Souilly,
Beside a small and blue canal,
She had me stop so we could see;
Such was, I think, her rationale —

We then we went to a hotel bar
And drank our fill of Pinot noir,
And laughed and sang and swayed and played,
Past Paris, where mistakes
Get made

The night in showers came to war…

The night in showers come to war,
The flags of passion everywhere;
Beneath the lights of give-us-more,
The savage battle raged unfair

The pounding drums the whole earth shook,
With this field lost, and that hill took,
And every last report, a lie,
For what do soldiers do
But die

Smaller Things

It’s smaller things that mean the most.
We find that out as time goes by;
When in large nothings we’re engrossed,
That never seem to satisfy —

And then we find a moment true,
When what’s important – love – shines through,
And we can see, amid it all,
That what means most is mostly