The Lovers’ Chronicle 8 June – burdens – art by John Everett Millais – lyrics by Steven Fromholz

08 June 2023 By Rhett 0 In Random

Dear Zazie, Here is the latest edition of The Lovers’ Chronicle by Mac Tag. Are you carryin’ any burdens? Do they keep you up at night? Rhett

The Lovers’ Chronicle

Dear Muse,

a man no longer restless,
lies in bed beside a woman,
she dozes, he lies there grateful
weary no more, for the burdens carried
have been left behind on the broken trail

as his thoughts fill with memories gathered
from pursuits of pleasures together,
he clings to the dream come true

some asked why

well, more than some

i knew i could not fix it

so i had to stand it

weren’t no reins on it

and it damn near

cost me everything

but i stood it

and here i am

still fairly sound

and still me

and i have but this

to offer, this place

i hold dear

for you to join

the only way to carry it all

to just keep on writin’

i have run out

to flag down the wind

and i hear things

when silence

is all that abounds

and there have been times

when it brought me

down to my knees

but i am still me

and the place

where i hold you is true

a man, restless in bed
beside a woman he just met
she dozes, he lies there listenin’
weary of the burdens he carries,
or rather, from the burdens created
the memories from the broken trails,
the regrets from the choices made

for love left behind, for bein’
one of the unforgiven religion
thoughts fill with shadows gathered
from past pursuits of fleetin’ pleasures
the what ifs and questions suspended
above in the mountain night, deep in silence

Inside the house; a man, restless in bed beside a woman
he just met. She dozes, he lies there listenin’, eyes wide
shut in the dark, no doubt hearin’ Her callin’. He looks
weary with all the burdens he has to carry, or rather, from
the burdens he has created for himself; like the memories
from the trail of broken hearts, the regrets from the choices
made, for love left behind, for bein’ one of the unforgiven
religion. His thoughts fill with shadows gathered from his
past pursuits of fleetin’ pleasures. Above him, the what ifs,
sighs, and questions; suspended, while off in the mountain
night, deep in silence, She awaits there with Her power that
moves through the world and makes his hair stand on end.
She is there, knowin’ a storm will soon sweep down the valley
and knowin’ the answers yet keepin’ them to Herself until……

Today is the birthday of John Everett Millais (Southampton 8 June 1829 – 13 August 1896 Kensington); painter and illustrator who was one of the founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.

Gallery

Photo of Millais, c. 1854

A lost love

Mariana, 1851

The Order of Release (1853) Tate Britain, London
Ophelia (1852) Tate Britain, London
The Return of the Dove to the Ark (1851) Ashmolean Museum, Oxford

Millais later in his career

Pizarro Seizing the Inca of Peru (1846), Victoria and Albert Museum, London
The Tribe of Benjamin Seizing the Daughters of Shiloh (1847)
Isabella (1849) Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool
Christ in the House of His Parents (1850) Tate Britain, London
A Huguenot on St Bartholomew’s Day (1852)
The Proscribed Royalist, 1651 (1853) Lord Lloyd Webber
Sir Isumbras at the Ford (1857) Lady Lever Art Gallery
The Vale of Rest (1858) Tate Britain, London
The Black Brunswicker (1860)
Esther (1865) Private Collection
Jephthah (1867) National Museum of Wales, Cardiff
Vanessa (1868) Liverpool Museums Service
Portrait of the Marquess of Lorne. National Gallery of Canada
The Boyhood of Raleigh (1871)
Victory O Lord! (1871) Manchester Art Gallery
Portrait of Effie Millais (1873) Perth Museum and Art Gallery
The Two Princes Edward and Richard in the Tower (1878) Picture Gallery of Royal Holloway College
The Northwest Passage (1878) Tate Britain, London
Cherry Ripe (1879) Private Collection
John Henry Newman (1881) National Portrait Gallery (London)
Bubbles (1886) Royal Academy of Arts
A Jersey Lily: Portrait of Lillie Langtry Jersey Museum Service
Effie Deans
Self portrait Uffizi Portrait Collection Florence
John Ruskin (1853–54) Ashmolean Museum, Oxford
The Knight Errant (1870) Tate Britain, London
The Martyr of the Solway (c. 1871) Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool
The Farmer’s Daughter (1863)

Today is the birthday of Steven John Fromholz (Temple, Texas, June 8, 1945 – January 19, 2014 Eldorado, Texas); entertainer, singer-songwriter who was selected as the Poet Laureate of Texas for 2007.

at the 2007 Texas Book Festival

I’d Have to Be Crazy

I’d have to be crazy
To stop all my singing
And never play music again

You’d call me a fool
If I grabbed up a top hat
And ran out to flag down the wind

I’d have to be weird
To grow me a beard
Just to see what the rednecks would do

But I’d have to be crazy
Plum out of my mind
To fall out of love with you

Now I know I’ve done weird things
I told people I heard things
When silence was all that abounds

Been days when it pleased me
To be on my knees
Following ants, as they crawled across the ground

I’ve been insane on a train
But I’m still me again
The place where I hold you is true

So I know I’m alright
‘Cause I’d have to be crazy
To fall out of love with you

Now I don’t intend to
But should there come a day
When I say that I don’t love you
You can love me away

I sure would be dingy
To live in an envelope
Waiting alone for a stamp

You’d swear I was loco
To rub for a genie
While burning my hand on the lamp

And I may not be normal
But nobody is
So I’d like to say ‘fore I’m through

I’d have to be crazy
Plumb out of my mind
To fall out of love with you

Songwriters: STEVEN FROMHOLZ

For non-commercial use only.

Man With the Big Hat

In a bar in Arizona
On a sultry summer day
A cowboy came in off the road just to pass the time away
He pulled a stool up to the bar and pushed his hat back on his head
I listened to the stories told, to the words that cowboy said
He said…

“I could tell you stories ’bout the Indians on the plain
Talk about Wells Fargo and the comin’ of the trains
Talk of the slaughter of the buffalo that roamed
Sing a song of settlers come out looking for a home.”

[Chorus:]
Now, the man with the big hat is buyin’
Drink up while the drinkin’ is free
Drink up to the cowboys a-dead or a-dyin’
Drink to my compadres and me
Drink to my compadres and me

Well, his shirt was brown and faded
And his hat was wide and black
And the pants that once were blue were grey and had a pocket gone in back
He had a finger missin’ from the hand that rolled the smoke
He laughed and talked of cowboy life, but you knew it weren’t no joke
He said…

“I seen the day so hot your pony could not stand
And if your water bag was dry, don’t count upon the land
And winters… I’ve seen winters when your boots froze in the snow
And your only thought was leavin’, but you had nowhere to go

[Chorus]

Well, he rested easy at the bar, his foot upon the rail
And laughed and talked of times he’d had out livin’ on the trail
The silence was never broken as the words poured from his lips
Quiet as the forty five he carried on his hip, he said…

“I rode the cattle drive from here to San Antone
Ten days in the saddle, you know, and weary to the bone
I rode from here to Wichita without a woman’s smile
The camp fire where I cooked my beans was the only light for miles

[Chorus]

Well, he rolled another cigarette as he turned toward the door
I heard his spurs a jinglin’ as his boot heels hit the floor
He loosened up his belt a notch, pulled his hat down on his head
As he turned to say goodbye to me, this is what he said…

“Now, the high-lines chase the highways, and the fences close the range
And to see a workin’ cowboy – that’s a sight that’s mighty strange.”
But a cowboy’s life was lonely, and his lot was not the best
But if it hadn’t been for men like me, there wouldn’t be no west

Songwriter: STEVE FROMHOLZ

For non-commercial use only.

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burdens, cowboy coleridge, dark muse, john everett millais, pale love pale rider, Rhett, steven fromholz, tea with tater, the lovers chronicle, twt, zazie lee

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