Matthew Temple Poems

Well beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly
Lay me to rest at the break of the dawn
Then take yourselves home to the land of our fathers
Tell the young mother her true love is gone
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Your dreams of wealth have all come true
A house two cars a pool
You’ve ceased to be a common man
And become a wealthy fool
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Singing words of poetry returning to my mind
Trying to remember the half forgotten line
Words of common verbiage woven into lace
The words speak of the poet
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