Welcome to where the seeds of dreams are planted--where one can sip from the charmed chalice of life & meet interesting folk through (hopefully) intelligent conversation.

One never knows nor can expect who will sail into the fray--what we do know is that no soul here is perfect no matter how we try. So let us celebrate & raise our mugs to the idiosyncratic nature of life--to the Kramer's & Norm's of the world, the Roseanne's & Allan Poe's. Some old, some lost, some tortured, some blessed, all souls sharing a drink at the same time in the same place. The ensuing tales are authentic with names trending towards monikers. The flag waving on our doorstep means we're open, so come perk your curiosity in Le Harbor Bungalow Cafe.

Bonjour! Mesherfin! Hasta la vista! Your barista.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

The Angels

I'm a beat up old soul stuck in a town with no heart
If I hear that damn song again I'm gonna swallow real hard
Where are the angels with flowers in there hair?
There aint no such women here, in my beer I will stare

The barmaid is kind enough to hand me a smoke
The sidewalk is cold but that woman's a joke
She can't name a song to play to save her own life
So I stick out my thumb and I hitch the next ride

The club down the road is much of the same
I can't find no coffee & I can't find your name
I'm running in circles & seeing in doubles
Can't you tell my heart's broken? Don't you know I'm in trouble?

So I throw back my beer & I trip down the stairs
And I notice the stars, never knew they were there
Then I felt a warm touch, soft lips on my mouth
She said, "Let's get out of here & travel down south."

The angels are out there sometimes in disguise
Never expected, always a surprise
I picked a flower & duly prepared
And placed it upon her angelic soft hair

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