Michael Shutt

Michael Shutt Poems

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Started writing after life closed in.)

The Best Poem Of Michael Shutt

A Garden Fair

A cold March Wind
Encased my body
And tousled hair
While I walked through
A Garden Fair.

I did not mind
The wind so much,
For Hoosier March
Does bring forth gusts.

I'm used to it.

For, here
I was conceived,
And here
I'll finally rest
In this peaceful
Garden Fair,
Surrounded by
My Darlings
Who've gone on before.

It was not
Hoosier Wind
That chilled today,
But sad
Warm Breeze
From Pensacola -
Spewing out
A bitter gust -
A too soon loss
Enveloped Me.

I dressed for
The occasion -
From respect -
Pinstriped Pants,
An Argyle Sweater.
And no,
did not take from
An old Wise wardrobe,
Though I did
In days gone by-
When Wise
would see me
Showing off
Upon the stage,
And whisper,
'God, Jo,
That boy
Has filched
My coat and shoes.'

I guess now, Dad,
You've nothing left to lose.

You've nothing
Left to lose.
Perhaps false heart
In nearby Destin...
Destin?
Destiny my
Irish Soul.
If you fell
For false faced love
From false faced daughter,
Well, really, Dad.
Well shame on you.

Your mind was gone.
Your not to blame.
Your soul now goes
On up to Heaven.
I hope you walk
In peace with Kevin.

What did you leave
Behind, Dad?
A widowed Red Head Fair,
And then,
A son,
Not son,
You'd not acknowledge.
Even though
You had the knowledge.

And in
Last days
You did convene
A 'family conference. '
What the hell was that?
Without your loyal
Redhead Fair?
You did convene.
Spoke to the air.

I walked amidst
A Garden Fair.
And breathed
The Air of
Spirits whom
Have gone before me.
In the end,
I hope you spared
A kind word
While you're
Daughter False
Denied you entry.
Its up to me
To be your sentry.

I walked around
A Garden Fair -
And did breathe deep
A bitter air.
And yet,
Dad. Dave
Though you forgot,
And reveled in
False Babylon's air,
A Redhead Fair
Did bring you home
And sent your fractured
Soul to roam.
Unwanted son
Will bring you home.
To gently rest
In Riley's Lair.
To gently sleep
In Garden Fair.

You always were
Uncompromising
To this Sad Son
It's not surprising.
And yet,
Dad, Dave,
I'll take you there.
And rest you in
A Garden Fair.

And pray
You find
Your soul laid bare.
And find some peace
In Garden Fair.

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