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Jack and Jill
Before the cock crowed twice
I denied myself thrice,
Rolling the black and white dice
With a heavy hand
And a heavy heart.
To say I lost face
On that gamble, that fixed race
Would be a redeeming grace.
O, but I’ve lost every trace
Of every step along the way
And all the stories
that people will ever say
About my fleeting life.
Sweet old ladies will go to hell
And best friends who I knew oh so well
But never picked up the courage to tell.
Too busy looking at my reflection
At the bottom of some well
Then to carry up the bucket by its bell.
I was Jack to your Jill
And that very small hill
Looked too big, but still
I found the thrill
In trying anyway.
Now I'm old and gray
and lost along my
crooked little ways
and I stoop down to gaze
at a puddle in a field,
and the water asked me
if it was all too real?
But my black heart
could no longer feel
the holy seal
left by some nice ghost
who said he loved me the most
only in this shall I ever boast
that a Dad, a Kid, and
some Holy Ghost
loved me ever the most.
And that is enough.
