GARNI SALLOW
(A song)
Originally written ~ 10.10.1981 – Originally Posted 09.01.2012 – Re-posted as part of an Edenbray Retrospective ~ 30.12.2019
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Garni Sallow
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(A song)
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I went to the top and swallowed
Swallowed pride!
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Bed of roses ~ no!
Bed of roses ~ no-o!
But Garni Sallow
He does take my hand
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Motivation soliloquy
Regeneration ~ Happening to me
Backward taking ~ Since ‘my’ fall
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It’s so Big ‘my’ fall
Identification ~ with all ‘my’ means
Qualification ~ ‘my’s’ in the genes
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Cannot escape ~ No way at all
till Garni Sallow
He came along
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Holding water ~ full to the brim
Garni Sallow
He knows how to swim
and filling me slowly
is no fun at all
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My Garni Sallow
He overflow-w-w-w – w
Killing me softly
For Him is no tale
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Dear Garni Sallow
He kills me stone dead
with His love
with His l-o-o-v-e
with His l-o-o-v-e!
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writtenbyedenbray10.10.81
re-posted30.12.2019
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#Authors note:~ This was a song with no tune I wrote originally in 1981, nigh on 40 years ago. It follows a theme I have kind of perpetuated since I imagined it in and around 1969/70. It concerns the sincerity or naivete of faith and also the name or names of god. The premise of this theme and also this love-song presupposes that a loving god would be more than happy to be given a ‘pet’ or sincerely personal ‘love’ name as the name one might give to a true loved one, friend or relative – like possibly ‘gramps’ or something even more personal than that. God looks on the heart and should therefore be able to discern the true sincerity of faith within the human heart and therefore remain unperturbed by such seeming familiarity. This song is a love-song born within a love-relationship and sung by a loved, accepted and confident believer to the object of their faith and love ~ Garni Sallow
( Link ~ https://edenbray.wordpress.com/ronism-%e2%99%97-it-all-started-at-a-party-with-friends/ )
Personal Jesus
Depeche Mode
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares
Your own personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who’s there
Feeling unknown
And you’re all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Lift up the receiver
I’ll make you a believerPut me to the test
Things on your chest
You need to confess
edenbray ☢︎ - a BEAT POET 