By Gary Lee Parker
rain began, I remember
hearing, softly felt it sinking in.
glist'ning eyes, slowly drowning.
in the gale hell is crowning,
births the death of all I'd hoped to win.
'twas fools gold that kept me trying,
mops and towels for the drying
still the madness sweeping 'bout my head
finds me here, mid-December,
lost at sea. this love's ember
once shone bright but, brightly, now is dead.