MORO BUDDY BOHN

 

Some of the best musicians I know are also writers of fine poetry. Moro's guitar spills absolute beauty when his fingers touch the strings, and his pen runs the gamut, from deeply spiritual to whimsical storytelling when his compositions come out as words instead of breathtaking guitaristry. On this page, you'll find two of my favorites.

(All poetry on this page ©Mor Buddy Bohn)

THE SAILOR

 

My old friend is a sailor

From the crew of many boats.

In his face shine the answers

Taught by visions and horizons

Lit with precious understanding.

 

He's learned so many nameless lessons

From the risings

And the settings

Of the sun—this vagabond in me.

 

"What you see in me is you," he says,m

"for we never see each other—

Only ourself who is the other.

 

"And the sense of one and other

Cannot stand before the vision

In the mirror

One could think to be another."

 

(This poem is the frontispiece for Moro Buddy Bohn's book "KIN TO THE WIND")

 

MY OWN SONG

 

With his music from a golden season,

A young troubadour has come my way.

Have I gone astray?

With visionary things to say,

In a song he says I wrote, he serenades me-

With my own song enchants me-

This gypsy troubadour in me.

 

He sings my own song-

His voice from deep within my heart-

Leading me home so reverently.

 

He has traveled far to find me wandering

From my castle in a golden age-

This kindly sage-

A friend for reasons he won't say,

He's the Prince of Shangri-La bestowing riches

With the song he sings-the peace he brings-

This gypsy troubadour in me.

 

He sings my own song-

His voice so warm within my heart-

Leading me home so reverently.

 

From the back roads of a golden season,

Sings a troubadour who's come my way

Have I gone astray?

 

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