And I'm clutching my string of pearls, trying
not to slip when the blind man offers his arm
to guide me up the icy steps. His shoes
grip the ice as if we were walking on
sunshine at the beach. There are no trumpets
to declare our triumph, no band to greet
us at the top. We climb one careful step
at a time. Me eying the future; his
blindness grounded in the present, the ice
glistening like a string of mini-pearls.
Dreamed about Ray Charles last night
And he could see just fine, you know
I asked him for a lullaby
He said, "Honey, I don't sing no more"
No more, no more, no more
Ray don't sing no more
He said, "Since I got my eyesight back,
My voice has just deserted me.
No 'Georgia on my mind' no more...
I stay in bed with MTV"
Then Ray took his glasses off
And I could look inside his head
Flashing like a thunderstorm
I saw a shining spider web
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.10 seconds at 12:58pm on Jun 02, 2025 via server WEBX2.