Big john…

I met a man called big john B,
he had a strange affect on me.
We were stood on the edge of
the Mississippi, near it’s end
a mile from the sea.

The affect he had was to free my thought,
to dream of things I thought I’d forgot
Taking me closer to that which I sought,
away from the fears and worries I’d fought.

Travelling we were from here to there,
never quite knowing the days end.
We took each new road without a care,
I’d never again find a closer friend.

Adventures with women, common place,
along with the odd pub fight.
Guaranteed the heart would race,
before we bedded for the night.

We’d do our fair share of work,
enough that we could both live.
If honest, it’s a burden we’d try to shirk,
but never asked for more than we’d give.

John could charm the birds from trees,
girls would sway under his gaze as well.
He said he only aimed to please,
yes, it was a very powerful spell.

Friends we were until the news,
friends yet if he’s still got breath.
This was a parting we didn’t choose,
but best I remember him not his death.

So big john B took the river trail,
I headed up north into the hills.
Sitting here older and more frail,
a tavern fire to ease my chills.

Thinking of the old devil kindles some guile,
I nod at the youngish lass behind the bar.
She returns my nod with a welcoming smile,
tonight big john, I don’t think I’ll travel far.