Silly Poet! Every one knows a bio is prose.! ahh... but isn't that what a songwriter is, a silly poet?
A long time ago when the grass was blue, and the sky was bottle green,
A little girl sat in her farm basement room
with a chrome buttoned tape machine
her little voice sang just a little off key
but the song was a precious one-
For she was Melissa, down deep in her soul
the passion was there, to her small barefoot toes
but who would she be and where would she go?
Her road of life wandered and wove through the land
she grew and matured , as only songwriters can
hard knocks and road signs kept life’s truth aloof—
Till she sat long and hard, in the Great Maker’s Lap
Long there and hard there, quite conscious of that
she took out her pen, sat down at at the piano
And one by one wrote, and she sang as she wrote
O she sang every note, and she poured out her soul
And now what do you know - did the little girl grow?
She did, and she does, for that is the secret
that makes these new songs, have their old soul repeaters
She wants to sing them, and you want to hear them
For the secret she knows, down to her barefoot toes
that her wandering and weaving o’er life’s bumpy roads
sometimes o’erlaps with wherever yours goes.