Songwriter Heaven

In songwriter heaven

The syrup on your waffles

is so thick

And sweet

That lyrics drip from your lips

In perfect sticky meter.

Honey melodies get stirred right

Into your coffee.

In songwriter heaven

Roy Orbison stops by for lunch

And wears his shades the whole time.

He doesn’t say much, but drinks a glass

Of red wine – a deep ruby red colors his lips.

He likes the new thing you’re working on.

In songwriter heaven

Leonard Cohen is stirring a huge pot on the stove

And the steam rising is evaporated genius.

The whole kitchen smells like onions and garlic

perfectly sauteing in a light cymbal splash of sizzle.

In songwriter heaven

Townes van Zandt sleeps on your sofa.

You find him watching cartoons in the morning,

You gently hand him a guitar and shut the tv off.

He plays the song he wrote in his dream last night,

while the sun rises and shines-

A perfect orange light illuminates the room.

Even the cat is listening.

IN songwriter heaven,

Guy Clark just got back from walking the dog.

He comes through the door

with a bit of poetry stuck to his coat.

He brushes it off

And saves the bits in a worn-leather purse.,

You both laugh about it.

He gets two beers from the fridge

while you grab

Paper and pen.

In songwriter heaven.

Tom Petty laughs while he tunes a Rickenbacker.

There are dead flowers on the table next to him-

they begin to bloom again as he

lightly touches the strings with a pick.

He's not singing anything yet, just thinking.

In songwriter heaven,

Patsy Cline is sitting with John Prine

Out on the deck at dusk,

They both have big glasses of iced

tea, and sausages are sizzling on the grill.

Beautiful birds gather on the railing and take notes.

Clouds softly hold color and the sunset fades slow.

Everything is quiet while Hank Williams

is out on the darkening lawn-

he is a tall lonesome silhouette

quietly waiting on a shooting star.