dave lessard

Here in Prescott, cottonwoods,
are scarlet from the fall;
in stately groves they rise,
as big as they are tall.
...

You are too beautiful for words,
which I try to capture in a song;
words just simply fail me,
I make them up as I go along.
...

Let the old love dormant lie
in the fields of sad regret;
let the heart in silence cry
of the time, when first we met.
...

What does it mean to be beautiful?
to be adored for who or whatyou are
appreciated and admired
from near or from afar.
...

Love does not fail, but people do,
they agonize, what they've been through;
they cast aside, the love they knew,
and then, in sadness...rue.
...

On this day of Atonement
I fast and keep the faith
free from man's objection
that bruise and scathe.
...

How beautiful the night
how lovely is the moon
how grand the glow of stars
on this tender night in June.
...

I will take this moment
and make it all my own;
mine alone to share
of the things I've known.
...

Why did you take away
the love I had for you?
killed the happy dreams
said that we were through;
...

Who made this beating heart
and gave birth to its soul?
who created earth and sky
and boldly made them whole?
...

The wind bit me in the neck
whipped my face with chilly force
ignoring it was fruitless
and so I changed my course;
...

My heart is yours alone Lord
do with it what you will
I eat Your living word
of thirst I drink my fill.
...

Before you, there was but nothing
just chance and restless wanderings
empty promises and tragic sorrow
over ordinary, silly, mundane things.
...

We weren't meant to live forever,
we're here today and gone tomorrow;
Father Time has pulled his lever,
enter now, the grief and sorrow.
...

Crimson was the color of the dress you wore,
the night we danced, out on the square;
the moon was glowing in the sky,
the breeze caressed your auburn hair.
...

Will you love me when I'm old and gray?
when my hairline is receding?
will you flee or will you stay,
when Viagra I'll be needing?
...

This autumn day is changing,
there's rain in pregnant clouds;
the valleys in the early morn,
are enclosed in somber shrouds.
...

Once an ancient volcano, jutting in the air,
now just cacti and pronghorns wander there;
the morning cool and sunny, no need of talk,
we exit from the car and then, begin our walk.
...

Cotton, floating on the breeze,
falling, gently in the air;
'neath a canopy of trees,
in skies so blue and bare.
...

We crunched the burrs
underneath our feet -
out in the open field
the smell of marsh was sweet.
...