poetry site

pharaoh, king of egypt's land
there is no escape by the river
the old west, the old time
a storm is riding on the tide
wheel me down by the meadow
for these white arms about my neck
if i should die, think only this of me
he's gone
could we but know
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
never in all my life
grieve not for the invisible
it tells of good old times
three years ago today