Annie

When the clouds web a raven moon His thirsty eyes your eyes may meet And unless your senses frigidly swoon Can hear may I have tea and biscuit! The hungry seeker is ever on roam Carrying in winds his heavy sighs With none to call his own and home Except night's stray passersby! If you stop some moments with him Can hear war stories and his bravery In soldier's pride his eyes still gleam His eyes are wet when speaks of Annie! He roams the night till the moon is veiled His home is here this earth his heaven Loving to chat with the souls strong willed About Annie who he left at forty seven!