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February 26, 2024

A True Life Song

By H.L. Dowless

A True Life Song

I’m way out here in a foreign land,
With the tiny mosquitoes and the heavy heat,
Thought I’d be living a life so grand,
But I’m-a sweating until I wanna squeak!

Well the bars are now all closed,
But this cane juice liquor isn’t any good.
I sit comfortably by the wall inside this town by the coast,
Wishing I could vanish away if I could.

I’m here next to the Amazon Jungle,
In a bamboo room swinging in a hammock,
With my native angel beside me all in a bundle,
She’s the only thing holding me here in this spot.

We drink banana cheer
Inside this place so discreet;
For breakfast we have rhea eggs
And fried spider monkey meat,
When our native camp cook comes near.

They have a drink made of mushrooms and vines.
It causes many to see demons and hear voices,
And feel the ghosts of their bamboo wind chimes,
While I stand before so many exotic choices.

Soon we have danced all morning long
To the thump of a native beat,
Quaffing cane liquor to a tribal song
As we all stand facing toward the east.

As we were all so filled with cheer
The earth beneath us shakes and trembles.
When the grand illustrious Madonna of the skies stands near,
All of us seemed to move so much more nimble.

The Madonna smiles
Telling me;
“Welcome in my dear child,”
Then with a raven she flies away,
“Never ever fear,
‘Cause I’ll come back again someday!”

Article © H.L. Dowless. All rights reserved.
Published on 2023-10-02
Image(s) are public domain.
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