A boy with a childish heart
His play things his friends
The sun the rays of energy
He plays violin, away quietly in his room
A masterpiece somehow he knows
The music is written somewhere on the patchwork
Of life
The fabric that we all know is woven by grandmother’s hands
Small town country band
Early birds and all the dirty worms
A big boss man has a chuckle
The rug is under his feet
So he supposes
Groceries and hallmark cards tell the story of grit and grain
Mother’s labor pains
Get and gain
All a fabric
A quilt, if you will
Patterns sublime
And you know it
You have a dime
A little boy’s dreams flicker
A coin sent skipping and rolling by someone’s toe
A boy’s dreams you may know
Tell the story to tell them so