Home ⇒ 📌W Jude Aher ⇒ When the merry pranksters paint
When the merry pranksters paint
on years,
On the dance of whispers.
Where have we gone
When the merry pranksters
Painted the soul
Of a child to woman born
Where dares she grow
From woodstock
She chanced to dream
But what did those
Years, mean.
She thought they
Would stay… forever.
But a child to woman grows
It’s all a body knows
And
It’s the stains
That paint
On one’s remains
As they ride the wind
Sweet wind
And so,
Still she rides
On tomorrow’s dreams
Sweeter wind stitching
A woodstock witching
Never…
And always free…
– jude
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