George Murdock - Homeless

There were song birds sweetly singing
and fawns beside a brook
all the while a mandolin elf
danced atop a book
which lay upon my heaving chest
as I lay beneath a bough
a mattress made of dandelions
defied gravity somehow
When I awoke the day had fled
The shadowed light grew dim
I rose up like the vapor
which floats above the glen
the cold wind seemed then to move me
toward the city’s edge
I rejoined my surly carcass
sleeping neath a bridge.
If I had a dollar
I’d buy a jug of wine
and kiss my lovely mistress
the siren of the vine.

George Murdock

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/homeless-31/