call on that saint  
and the candle that burns 
keeping her safe 
until her return 
 
plaster and paint 
holding the fire 
a poor woman's saint 
holding all man's desire 
 
bold little bird 
fly away home 
could I but ride herd 
on the wind and the foam 
 
all of the souls  
that curl by the fire 
they never know 
all man's desire 
 
watercress clings 
to the banks of the stream 
in the first grip of spring 
when the snow melts to green 
 
barefoot and cold 
and holding a lyre 
by the side of the road 
holding all man's desire 
 
call on the saint 
when the white candle burns 
keeping her safe  
until her return