Riddle
By Jhai
Play the riddle on your face, play the fiddle just a little. Don't stop in the middle, I listen hard, I strain my ear. A thousand angels singing.....or are they crying? I strain my ear and strain some more to hear you play right to the core, melting me. Cold and hard yet soft as silk the steel guitar blends in. Oh Jhai you cherry pie, you cry, you sigh, you want to die. Don't put me on a pedestal so high. It's you that's the star in the black afar. Just play the riddle on your face, play the fiddle just a little. I listen hard. A thousand angels changing their song. Is it the fate of one who waits at the revolving gate? I listen always for your song, it can't be wrong. I play the riddle on my face, play the fiddle just a little. I listen hard I strain my ear, A thousand angels floating around, getting lost in the beautiful sound. K June 1997June 1997, This poem is about my Dad. I wrote this when I found out he was dying. Written November 14th, 2001 © on Nov 14 2001 03:53 AM PST 18 • 0 • 12
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"Play the riddle on your face, play the fiddle just a little...."