A Gathering of Words

Peter Sheardy

Description

A volume of song lyrics and poetry shares one man’s unique perspective on his journey through life.
Gently …
Ever so very gently.
The fingertips of the wind
Lightly pluck an amber leaf from its home.
It dips and swirls
On its way down to earth.
It could float forever
On the waves of the wind.
But the ride is over all too soon,
And it settles down for a cold frosty night.
There are many great songwriters, poets, and authors—many of whom have gone unsung. All are master storytellers, and many have sparked a chord within Pete Sheardy.
Pete, who has been writing poetry and lyrics since high school, shares his favorites in a debut collection that covers a broad range of topics. Within his whimsical, intriguing, and poignant writings, Pete lyrically leads others through his personal reflections as he explores the vivid colors of laughter, the beauty of October, the call of a black rolling ocean, a frigid December in Cleveland, the beach of his younger days, an Americana graveyard, the river of a white swan, and much more.
A Gathering of Words is a volume of song lyrics and poetry shared to provide a unique perspective on one man’s journey through life.

Sujets

• Themes
• Subjects
• Poetry
• Americana
• Lyrics
• Prose

Informations

• Publié par: LifeRich Publishing
• Date de parution: 03 janvier 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781489745576
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 3 Mo

Extrait

A Gathering of Words
 
 
A SELECTION OF POEMS AND LYRICS
 
 
 
Peter Sheardy
 
 
 
 

 
Copyright © 2023 Peter Sheardy.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
LifeRich Publishing is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.
 
LifeRich Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.liferichpublishing.com
844-686-9607
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
ISBN: 978-1-4897-4556-9 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4897-4557-6 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022951592
 
 
LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 12/28/2022
CONTENTS
Preface
 
Barracuda Pete
Cedar Key
The Colors of Laughter
Weathered Wood and Chimney Brick
Pere Lachaise
Battle in the Palms
Never
The Boardwalk of December
October
Shades of Gray
The Isle of Palms
The Trip
The Croton Leaf
To Sing of Chariots
The Isle of Plastic
Wild Game
Egypt
I Hear Your Call
Meeting in Mendocino
The Conquest of Paradise
Refuge for a Long Night
She Is a Song
The Canyons of My Mind
The Ghosts of the Wilderness
Stay here in Paris
Old Pickups Are for Lovers
Cleveland
The Living Room Dump
Tourist Battle Cry
A Place Called Home
Carved Stone in Early Winter
Time: The Master Thief
A Simple Kiss
Rodeo in the Sky
Lagoon
The Widow’s Son
Barney and the Prostitute Meet God
The Duke
The Beach of My Younger Days
Autumn Meeting
The Isle of Allamanda
The Texas Sky Cried
Blue Hydrangeas
The Americana Graveyard
The Twenty-Seven Club
Costa Rica
There Were No Witnesses
The Wings of America
The Montana Line
A Whole Lotta Lonesome
The Inn by the Bay
The Fields of Shenandoah
A Gathering
Alibi
Saw Grass and Sabal
Buy American
Song of the Night
Army Boots
Billowed Sails
The Old Yellow Chaise Lounge
Welcome to Downtown
Ghosts and Broken Hearts
Iron Birds over Dallas and Thoughts of Long Ago
The High Chaparral
No One Drives Cattle No More
A Wedding Song from Veracruz (La Bamba)
Tropical Seduction
Vodun
Miracle Town
The Coast of Broken Bones
The Roads of Yesterday
The Garrison of the Dead
Guitars, Quilts, and Epitaphs
River of the White Swan
Letter to Her
Carmel
 
About the Author
PREFACE
I wrote my first “memorable” poem when I was a sophomore in high school. I remember the title, “Barney and the Prostitute Meet God.” Prior to scribing that gem, I was listening to a Tom Waits album. There’s a good chance that album had an influence on my words. In college, I started taking my writing more seriously. I found that a good breakup usually spawned several poems. After Michigan State, I migrated to Florida and became enamored with my surroundings. From the stark beauty of the Everglades to the many colors of the beaches. Even the “Latin glitz” of Miami, not to mention the few characters I crossed paths with. About that time, I came across an American poet that would soon become my muse. The words of Don Blanding struck home. I combed used bookstores, and soon I had a formidable collection of his out-of-print books. Most of his stuff was from the thirties and forties. So, the combination was set to help me hone my craft: the Florida landscape and Don Blanding’s poems. I have had about a dozen works placed in poetry compilations and won some awards. But I still kept my day job.
Now fast-forward ten years. My best friend, John, and I were having a champagne breakfast at my place in Kansas City. He said, “We should put some of your poems to music.” My friend is an accomplished pianist and was currently learning the guitar. So, I thought, why not? How hard could it be? Well, there is a reason that not all authors are also accomplished lyricists! The first of many rules I learned is that in a song, you better tell your story in under four minutes. Especially if you’re trying to write for drive-time radio. Poetry can take as long as needed. However, we persevered, and now have two CDs of original music under our belts with a third in the works. By the way, we both still have our day jobs.
There are so many great song writers, poets, and authors out there, past, and present. And quite a few have gone unsung. All are master storytellers, and many have sparked a chord within me.
This book is a collection of some of my favorite poems and lyrics, all from my pen. Some have won awards and contests, but most are just dear to me. So, clear your mind of clutter, dance through these pages, and please enjoy A Gathering of W ords.
BARRACUDA PETE
Ahoy, me mates, and listen to me.
Hear the words of my solemn decree.
I’m a free man bound to no one you see.
For the bones of a sailor will always be free.
So, all young men should put to sea.
Leave behind the wood of the tree.
For the bones of a sailor will always be free.
Yes, the bones of a sailor will always be free.
Gather round, me jolly young lads,
And I’ll tell you a tale of a pirate so bad.
Barracuda Pete was known to all
From Ocracoke Island to San Cristobal.
Nobody knows which port he called home.
Most just say that he wandered and roamed.
Some say they saw him off the coast of Aruba,
And others around Santiago de Cuba.
He was a wiry man with raven-black hair.
And he carried a smile devil-may-care.
He had ice-blue eyes with a scar across one,
A double-edged sword, and a pearl-handled gun.
And his ship was a serpent right out of the sea,
With tall black masts that numbered three.
Sails of scarlet that hid in the night.
A bowsprit of a gargoyle in winged flight.
The children would run from the docks of the bay
When the barracuda would stalk his prey.
And all through the night, he would pillage and plunder
With a sword of lightning and fists of thunder.
He’d run from Bonaire to the coast of Tortola,
From St. Simons Island to Hispaniola.
He sent many ships to a watery grave,
And he had in his keeping many harlots and slaves.
But then one day his ship was found
Scuttled and battered and stuck on high ground.
Nothing was found—no treasure or crew.
Just some pieces of charred cedar where the bowsprit once flew.
And some stories say his crew had enough.
Others will say the seas were too rough.
Whatever the story, it isn’t complete.
For the bones were never found of Barracuda Pete.
No, the bones were never found of Barracuda Pete.
CEDAR KEY
Ch orus
Spanish moss … hangs down from live oak trees.
Cabbage palms … shuffle in the salty breeze.
The morning tide … creeps in from the Mexican sea.
Silver skies … greet the day for old Cedar Key.
The morning boats go out with hopes
Of bringing in quite a haul.
Past the lighthouse they steam with nets full of dreams
And crews that have been through it all.
While back on the docks, the doors unlock
To make way for the human race.
The taverns and galleries, gift shops and cafés,
Bring life to this tiny island place.
Ch orus
Where Spanish moss … hangs down from live oak trees.
Cabbage palms … shuffle in the salty breeze.
The midday tide … peaks in the Mexican sea.
Sapphire skies … look down over old Cedar Key.
The boats return, and soon we’ll learn
If the waters were cursed or blessed.
The seagulls give chase, and the pelicans make haste
To get a glimpse of the seafood fest.
While back on shore the open doors
Will soon start to close down the day.
The collectors and combers, beachers and boaters,
Will all come back soon and play.
Ch orus
Where Spanish moss … hangs down from live oak trees.
Cabbage palms … shuffle in the salty breeze.
The evening tide … retreats to the Mexican sea.
Salmon skies … say goodnight to old Cedar Key.
THE COLORS OF LAUGHTER
Come color my world in shades of laughter.
Let your smile paint pastel portraits.
Meadows of emerald and almond.
A snowy dress in flowing motion.
A woman’s face of flawless beauty.
I taste the crisp of the breeze,
Silken upon my skin,
Flavored with foam and sapphire
From the laughter of the sky,
And it cascades down about you.
Smell the hickory of the split-rail fence.
Earth clinging to cracked timber.
Spring moss blooming from the crease.
An ageless sentry of weathered wood
Cresting then tumbling along laughing hills.
I hear the rush of the silver plume,
Waltzing over ashen grass
Of a pristine pastoral.
I hear the hush of my name
From the whispered laugh of your lips.
Golden sun upon ivory shoulders.
The sweetness of clover across the tongue.
The hearty scent of soil and seed.
The spoken word caressed by the wind.
Th