Roll It Up Poem by James McLain

The stage is bright, hot and grainy, handsom
yes!
On you!
The sweat is cry-staled falling so is ever clear.
It runs through shadowed valleys seldom
seen behind these screens.
You pay the toll, it is high, the island grows, outside
it's bells when rang have brought the faithful
buried home within this house that wears your name.
You are the best,
when looking up, to read the cue on all the cards
that you now trust.
Some will come, others watch.
The banded hearts are stilled with love thats always taught.
Do you hear the bell inside your soul stained mind,
it runs the fingered hand outside the tightest seams.
All the front row seats are gripped in buff that wait in all there
love struck breath to burn.
They make up nymphs fauns in living colors bright hued streams.