we're the lovely dancing pair

wondering
if it's what i see
wondering
where to go to be free
as i look at you
you look at me
inside the rainbow
sweet currents of fresh air
white clouds swirling:
we're the lovely dancing pair.
she with a voice as gentle as a cat's smile
whispering for me to stay awhile,
cruising the open road each day
up every flight of stairs, down mysterious alleyways
dressing in party clothes
to a bum's rush or Hollywood shows
anonymously,
famously
watching how it all goes
under bright spotlights
wide-open skies or quiet nights
picnicking on the beach
everything seems to be within our reach.
wondering
if it's what i see
wondering
where to go to be free
as i look at you
inside the rainbow
sweet currents of fresh air
white clouds swirling:
we're the lovely dancing pair
she with a voice as gentle as a cat's smile
whispering for me to stay awhile

Beware of Mr. Baker

beware of
Mr. Baker
when walking down his lane!
there's wild rumors swirling
everywhere
that he's not well
and could possibly be insane.
the mad drumming in his head
is not all the Cream that he once said:
those fiery needles stuck inside his arm
are from when he was riding on his polo farm
on his speedy horse
but, of course,
there's African sand underneath his wheels,
heroin dealers and cocaine meals,
a desert sun,
black hookers and a British machine gun
ticking off the friends he used to know
before the big time and the Ginger Baker Show
came to town
in a flashy white limousine sporting a red-headed frown.
beware of
Mr. Baker
when walking down his lane!
there's wild rumors swirling
everywhere
that he's not well
and could possibly be insane.

a white dog

in the soft afternoon rain,
summer almost to bed,
a field covered by recently spread
fresh cow manure
mingled
with the sight of young
winter wheat
while a white dog rolled
her eyes in merriment,
licking what she could
without getting her feet muddy.