Monday, September 10, 2012

Guest Poet: Shel Silverstein

Sometimes my soul feels polluted by the confines of concrete. I find this theme repeatedly in my writing. I was never meant to be a city girl.

At the end of this post is a video my buddy Mike created. The band is The Floating Men, the singer and songwriter's name is Jeff Holmes, and you can open a new page and read more here: The Floating Men website~~GHC

Where the Sidewalk Ends ~~ Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Well, once again, Blogger refuses to embed. Here's the link though. 

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