Traditions lead to streets of dream
to scant abodes beneath the green
So tiny
small
'neath gardens tall
with russet stacked above them all
~
Their chimneys waft of fire's stoke
the meek step forth
though bashful folk
The pitter pat of little feet
arise
the length of Little Street
~
They take my hand as pipers chant
descend the street with river's dance
Around about
the dancers croon
to every home
I'm blessed ... buffoon
~
Tranquil glade amongst the heather
sparks ignite
the moods in feather
Flames leap forth as caldrons coddle
tubers roast
as whispers twaddle
Pipes I fill
and pints I swallow
Tip 'em Back ...
their chant seems hollow
~
Breaking bread
their stew ... yumm - titious
though in my head
their brew grows vicious
~
Little Street a fading glow
still ...
I was little once you know
The shutters close
the visions wane
the magic shapes to walking cane
Another day
another plane
the child inside ...
...
asleep
...
again
~~~
Little Street

Offline Rex Allen McCoy

  • Name: Rex Allen McCoy
  • Age: 64
  • Gender: Male
  • Location: London ON CA
Total Posts Last Post Last Seen Joined
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02/08/10
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A Taste of Black

Aerodynamically designed
and leaning near the bar
I'm drawn buy your finesse and patience
~
One step closer
standing
just out of reach
my murky heart grows darker
and in only moments
I catch your eye
~
Your brow lifts
to hinder a bead of sweat
and the corner of your lip
curls
in anticipation
~
Just before reaching out
with your firm but gentle touch
my heart fills
with a bubbling
effervescence
~
My head lightens
~
I'm black
~
I'm beautiful
~
I'm Guinness
~~~
©2008 Rex Allen McCoy

For your listening pleasure

My Hobbies

Reading & writing
Building and showing Hotrods

~

Here is my 1923 T Bucket

and

my son's 1968 Firebird


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Royal Canadian Legion Member

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Rex's friends

Rex Allen McCoy has 21 friend(s)

My Writing

Rusted Smile
~~~
Hearts in memory drawn before us
haste display their vesting style
Daydreams shed and plead ... restore us
dancing o'er a rusted smile
~
Chancing fancies may discover
heart-light cast where sins may dwell
Shadow-darkened skies recover
the isolation sought to quell
~
Sifting through those haunting traces
ringing round a fading light
Who might stop and trade us faces
invest a smile to warm the night
~
To the wise that rise above us
bend an ear to wishing well
See the dancers push and shove us
to the brink
of living
hell
~~~

©2001 Rex Allen McCoy

My Occupation

Evil Doer for Hire

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