Dawn Greer Poems

Mr. Blake is not a fake, for he is quite real.
and when Itunes charges me $9.99, it's a good deal.
Through promblems I have delt, I can rely on ole' Shelt
to get me through.
...

The whip-poor-will sings it's sad old song, in the middle of the night. All summer long. You can hear him in the trees, and where the saw grass sways. singin his ballad to all who's listening.
...

Let the waves rise and fall,
pictures fade on the wall.
Time will pass just like the rain.
In the future far from here,
...

My six strings talk to me with every pluck and strum,
and I reply back with every movement of my thumb.
My guitar understands me, with every note that I
have sung.
...