Here is one , I was hanging up laundry, and my good friend and neighbor stopped over, so we are chatting about everything and anything, and she said something to the effect , "Thats my Gord , he is a good man" ( meaning her husband)
this is what came to me immediately following.. And later after going over it again , I thought why does this poem sound like something from a different era in time, it is not the way we talk today lol
Send me a good man
A man with a sweatied brow
A man who stands tall and proud
And works for his pennies pay
At the crack of dawn
He is long gone
Only first to fill his hearth
And he won't give in to a fifth of Gin
Unlike a wayward sailor
A man who works and eats
A woman he'll keep
And never bother with complaints ( yeah right show me any human above that) lol
This man of nigh would end my sigh
For a good man is a saint
But who am I that I might sigh
pining over such heartfelt things
Well I'm a lonely spinstress waiting
Waiting on a golden wedding ring!
When this piece came to me... I saw a picture in my mind of this woman cleaning an old pub and she was sad .... this picture was shrouded in a type of greyish halo or grey light
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