Rio Colorado

©2008 Wayne Cook

They say this land is largely untouched
People disappear into vines and brush
They go on in, may lose their mind and never care
You don’t wear shoes much down here
I’ve seen them rot off in under a year
Stand 50 feet from a man; you may never see him there

It’s a land of beauty, just untamed
Like Eden… just slightly stained
Each man watches where he walks with careful grace
Jungle is a woman with her black hair down,
Smile on her face, her morals on the ground
Knife behind her back; man, you better know your place

You might hear that dart fly past
And again you might breathe your last
A blow gun is deathly quiet in the hands of the right man
You’ll swear you had the best intentions
But best intentions were a shameless sin
You fade away with nothing but your empty hands

Indian trails will seduce you and not deliver
Seduce you again with the curves of a lazy river
And you’ll never get out of the arms of the fragrance
Orchids dangle from wet black dados
Or carelessly from rocks and shadows
You may walk, you may run, but you’ll not get a dance

You’ll find gold down on the Rio Colorado
Gold like you’ve never seen this side of El Dorado
Gold nuggets you can hold with your trembling bravado
Cause you’ll never get out of the arms of the Rio Colorado

The Lion's Heart

Wayne Cook
©2007

You majesty, she said with hands in worship's respect,
I would my people and my honor protect,
Grant me this day one magnificent wish,
Send me out tonight with a Lion's heart my gift.

The king was struck with the young girl's plea,
No one else had petitioned him for such strange leave,
People had begged for favors, for pardon, for gold,
They had bartered and traded and left him cold.

Her eyes were as soft as they were direct,
His royal heart warmed; he could feel no threat,
He wondered and pondered this strange request,
And still his eye would yield to grant her quest.

He cleared his throat, like kings are wont,
Already he'd decided he would not this damsel taunt,
My young one, he said, as he stood to his feet,
My young one, what is the quest you seek?

She answered with a riddle, and true it rang,
The hall echoed with it's portent, implication, and tang
Sharp the word, sharp the intent, sharp now the eyes,
Sharp the finger that accused the evil stye.

He who keeps the entrance of lust and deceit,
He who winds the heart with vines of defeat,
He who wounds the man with soul in the dust,
He who speaks lies with honey, and breaks the trust.

Strong is the woman who evil loathes,
Strong is the cord that binds her to oath,
Strong is the soul that pursues the quest,
Strong is the Lion's Heart she grasps to her breast