When Fingers Touch
Touch my heart with fingers slow,
If your own be filled with woe,
Before the dawn when darkest be,
Then draw your dreams and hopes from me.
When darkness and the winds that chill,
Invade your thoughts and roam at will,
Then stroke my heart with fingers slow,
To feel their warmth within you flow.
Touch my heart with fingers slow,
It’s then that hopes between us flow,
For I shall share my dreams with you,
When fingers touch they’re part of you.
Burn or Banquet
Burn or banquet, what shall be,
When my soul shall body flee;
Should I recycle, or be a feast,
For hungry little forest beast?
It seems to me a trifle wrong,
To disappoint the insect throng,
For I have lived and lived quite well,
On meat that grocers, butchers’ sell.
Deprive them of their dinner grand
When mortal form is fiery brand?
We’ll cheat the hungry oven flame,
That all God’s creatures live again.
If earth folk with their plates held high,
To feast from those who live then die,
Then we live on, immortal be,
Our bodies used and spirits free.
Michael (Walsh) 05.12.12 ©