Poetry about Life, Love, Music by Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet
A Poet's dreams are always magical Filled with wonderful images Music fills the air And pens know their time is near The cry of the dragon Is strong in my dreams Calling me back to ancient lands When I get bored I just hop aboard A magic mushroom rocket ship And ride the tails of... Continue Reading →
There's a black wind howlin' Lightning's flashing Through the trees Better batten down the hatches The Devil's on the prowl His dark soul's getting closer You can hear his chilling howl Something bad's a coming There's a chill in my old bones There's destruction in the mountains And flooding on the plains There's a black... Continue Reading →
A Sequel to Drink With The Devil It wasn't long before the devil came back after we met at the bar She smiled and said quite casually “I heard you play the drums that night you had a drink with me” “Get to the point my evil friend I see those drumsticks up your sleeve”... Continue Reading →
Last night in my dreams I drank with the devil As my band finished a set I set my drumsticks down And sat at the bar Nursing a gin and tonic To soothe my throat She sat down next to me With a glass of blood red wine “Let me introduce myself” She smiled and... Continue Reading →
The devil came to challenge me again Said she wanted another chance “You beat me once you son of a gun Grab your pen, let's have some fun” “There's no way you can beat me twice” She glared and said to me “You may have won the first time But this time the prize is... Continue Reading →
~A fantasy fictional poem~ The devil visited my dreams last night She even brought the grim reaper Wearing her cloak and holding her scythe I asked if there was meaning to my life The spirits sang while the devil fiddled I felt her whisper in my ear “The answer lies beyond the pain” I now... Continue Reading →
The Devil came up to Tennessee She said she was looking for me “I'm looking for the Tennessee Poet And he better come talk to me” So I saddled up and found her Waiting at the old oak tree “I've heard your poetry can't be beat” She laughed as she said to me “I've come... Continue Reading →
I'm on the last train running...
