The Dusty Men

The Dusty Men

 

Four men travel a dusty road

Tight of belt and light of load

Weary feet shuffling slow

Where do the four dusty men go?

 

Man number one is a man named Tom

He never speaks much of where he is from

But he holds the ace of spades with a tear in his eye

As the bright sun sets in the twilight sky

 

Man number two goes by the name of Bert

Wearing the rags of a silken shirt

Early each morning with a flask of gin

He sneaks off alone to quietly sing

 

Man number three is a spry old cricket

Said his friends out west called him Wicket

With gnarly old fingers as light as a breeze

He lifts heavy purses just as easy as you please

 

Man number four doesnt say much

The other dusty men all call him Dutch

They can’t imagine that his road has been fun

For poor old Dutch doesn’t have a tongue

 

Four dusty men travel a dusty road

Tight of belt and light of load

None can ever say if the dusty men know

Where the roads they travel even go

 

©Aarron Mondello

2/11/2018

 

Untitled

The first one on my own

And turned my tired, weary tread

In a direction I knew for home

You walked along next to me

And ran through the blinding dark

Your footfalls thudding on the ground

Counterpoint to my heart

You fell to floor beside me

And lent to me your wisdom

Passed on to me the strength I needed

To battle for my freedom

Where were you when I finally saw me

When the darkness finally receded

You were the whisper in my mind

The one I rarely heeded

Where were you? You were with me

For you and I are one and the same

I’d just lost sight of myself

Until that cleansing earthen rain
©Aarron Mondello

29/8/2018

Words

 

 

Do you have some sad words

That I can put down on this page

Or perhaps some fiery angry words

That make you scream and rage

 

Where are your profound words

To make me stop and think

To challenge all my beliefs

And place them on the brink

 

What about your jealous words

Tinged with hues of green

Or melancholy bittersweet

Words of things you’ve seen

 

Can you find some words for me

Of joyful laughing times

Heady happy memories

That I can fashion into rhymes

 

Sit a while and tell me words

Of all things in your head

Words that I can twist and turn

Into tales to be read

 

©Aarron Mondello

8/8/2018

A Land Passed

 

An ancient ruined
Battered keep
A home for the dead
Hear them weep
Forever here
In eternal sleep
Forever trapped
In a ruined keep

Green grass swaying
Around full grown trees
Spoken softly
On the breeze
Words unheard
Yet understood with ease
As spirits rest
Amongst the trees

All but forgotten
Denizens of this land
Forever untouched
By gods hands
Prisoners in glass
Within times sands
The long dead people
Of this long dead land

©Aarron Mondello
4/4/2018