deepundergroundpoetry.com
Muriel
Memory of Muriel
When the big wave crashed ashore
on the rocky side of the bay, seven white stallions, silky manes flying, galloped ashore to seek freedom in the green winter valley.
The old man's sons helped their father to swim
and he was glad
Coming home, he called his wife Muriel and told her he had been swimming with his son.
The sons were worried their mother had been dead for many years
In the valley of greenness, the stallions see
the grass turned pale
longed for the freedom of the open sea.
When a summer storm came, the stallions galloped back to the shore to join mighty swells
on the back of a horse, an old man rode
finally, he was going to meet his wife Muriel.
When the big wave crashed ashore
on the rocky side of the bay, seven white stallions, silky manes flying, galloped ashore to seek freedom in the green winter valley.
The old man's sons helped their father to swim
and he was glad
Coming home, he called his wife Muriel and told her he had been swimming with his son.
The sons were worried their mother had been dead for many years
In the valley of greenness, the stallions see
the grass turned pale
longed for the freedom of the open sea.
When a summer storm came, the stallions galloped back to the shore to join mighty swells
on the back of a horse, an old man rode
finally, he was going to meet his wife Muriel.
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