(Source: youtube.com)

(Source: youtube.com)

Over the mountains, and threw the haze of a misty cloud.
There is a person who stands alone and shouts out loud
do you need me now.

And in the city, and threw the sounds of a noisy crowd.
There is a person who stands alone and shouts out loud
do you need me now.

All I know is what I see,
and there is no one here with me,
and it shows everywhere I go
that’s all I know.

Sometimes in life, sometimes in life you find that special one.
And when the moon is in the sky and shining bright
tonight could be the night.

All I know is what I see,
and everybody’s here with me,
and it shows everywhere I go
that’s all I know.

Over the mountains, and threw the haze of a misty cloud.
There is a person who stands alone and shouts out loud
do you need me now.

Take A Listen To “All I Know”

(Source: ronnieandheather.bandcamp.com)

It’s neither small, it’s neither strong.
It’s the meaning of a song.
A window loose, brittle and true,
inside and out, smashing sky.
Chipped old wet paint, cerulean blue,
we stare up, art is not true.
One sable brush, songs are over sung,
a gift returned, photo’s hung.

Piped answers smoked in wood.
Somehow it seems understood.
Hallway between twelve inches of stone,
a hat, a lock, a warning call alone.

The distance between the glass and the thing.
A sight promised, unseen.
The lid holding the steam, boiling the sky,
vows not entered, signatures dry.

Above the prayer, abiding the wind,
the shaking of a brook, a plastic pool,
a kitten’s bite, feathered teeth,
a maid and a rose brush groomed inside from the start.


Above the prayer, abiding the wind,
the shaking of a brook, a plastic pool,
a kitten’s bite, feathered teeth,
a maid and a rose brush groomed inside from the start.

Piped answers smoked in wood.
Somehow it seems understood.
Hallway between twelve inches of stone,
a hat, a lock, a warning call alone.

A paper cut, a paper moon,
strung thin, radioed in.
A master’s tape, for seeing no fog,
a rum-aging shave, a filtered hide.

Take A Listen To “From The Start”

(Source: ronnieandheather.bandcamp.com)

Maybe we’re here, for a reason or not.
Nothing keyed, a breath taken
anchored to create, seat belts denied
rear view backseat driven ride

uncooked and cast, four strings plucked at last
medicine tokens, a bass guitar lick
money tucked in-the wallet of time
tuning proclaims know notes aloud

chess boards fell neatly pieces meet love
playing muttered muddy water songs
dances become plays, plays become dances

blues crowds faded, creeks begin croaking
despair dated, the fretboard floating
the neck bowed, straightened on rosewood
tuning proclaims know notes aloud

a world understood, stood understood
sweat pouring pouring-piano rained
tickled ivory keys looking arranged

a dive so deep, one polish kiss
pride changed the rules, the sun re-aligned
a swollen peace, flirting confined
c clef that says know notes aloud

blues crowds faded, creeks begin croaking
despair dated, the fretboard floating
the neck bowed, straightened on rosewood
tuning proclaims know note aloud

Take A Listen To “Know Notes Aloud”

(Source: ronnieandheather.bandcamp.com)

seahear
seized the day too
of rings of lovers
content to imatate
by kissing jokes in the arms of war
love harvests an original word
—a dancing decoy/a toe gate.

seahear
I don’t know what I can be
should you write lines
down for me
The more briefly I lie
the faster I flie
Design me in your arms
fold me up like an oragamy tragedy.
Then you will see the real me.

Love will have played with armored hands’
Heads or tails in the battle heat…
A good leg, a lead foot, a silver toe…
coughs that red color circulating Beat.
A migraine without speech
A golden calfve, still milk bleeds
Until the sun bows at your perfect feat.

All I know, softer than hard
the prickly value of love
the teating hands that touch
vowes made inside.
A monarchs wings reowned, both opened
a queen without a band
pages marked open, but unbroken.

ripened clouds depart
paper ends, pieces inpart
hands remain true
terrain like fingers, in the sky blue
as a silver pointed pen inks,
sewing corn lines
angles blink, unfold us carefully

like a shoehorn unraveled.
It’s tongue holds many songs
fly words, strong like a jet lines
it remains, a marker in the sky.
the arms of you, the arms of I
laces unwrapped
loose like fireflys talking
seahear
hear the sea walking.

Read More Poetry By Heather At Heather’s Poetry Site

Ronnie Gibson has been a top 20 artist on ReverbNation.Com for months now. He has many of his older recordings with a couple new songs on this site.  Ronnie has been included in many genres and is now in the country music genre. The site also contains some of his special “songs of faith” that he has written and produced some years ago. To check out this site simply click on http://reverbnation.com/ronniegibson