Poetry from the book {The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

                        Hacienda de Legend

The Legend, the man of myth, the man of sunsets

The Legend is a man that wears the same Hawkeye baseball cap every day and has a corn cob pipe between his lips, with sunglasses so dark that you can't see his steel blue eyes

The Legend is so wealthy and rich that he lives in a tent half the year

He is the only man to ride a Lake Superior shark while finger banging a beaver off the shores of Christmas, Michigan (no a real beaver)

When he skips rocks at Mosquito Beach they go for miles (88 skips)

At night he can be found at Foggys Bar playing cards with Bigfoot while aliens play flute music from what looks like their assholes

When the Legend sky dives he can momentarily stop in mid air and shit on seagulls and bad children who throw rocks at kayakers

Yes the Legend can swim like a fish, run as fast as the cheetah, he could jump from the high dive at age three

At beach parties he can bury himself in the sand and reappear forty feet away

If you ever see the Legend dragging kayaks up a flight of stairs, if you help him he will reward you with a gorgeous painting of himself

The Legend, the man of myth, forest dweller, wave rider, cow killer, bronco rider, hammock dweller, buccaneer, dolphin and squirrel linguist

The Legend is walking a beach drinking a martini with a bikini clad chic at his side, they disappear into a sunset

The sun is where he goes to regenerate his soul

Some say that he sleeps in two mummy bags so that he doesn't freeze to death

                     Hacienda de Legend

Poetry from the book {The Lion and the Sun}by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

Poetry from the book {The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

                              The Firelight

    With two friends, amigos drinking some beers

Cage fighter at Fogges tells me there's gonna be a big fight coming up

      A freighter in the fog blows that low horn

           Yes you're somewhere out there

Were all going places, another beach, another trail, another port from the storm

Another citizen of Christmas strolls by my tent in the dark, doggy for a stroll and a poop

A beautiful girl waves at me and smiles trying to allure me into the game of Love

I am turning into the stone wall that I look at

The only thing that I have is the water, wind and rain.

Poetry from the book Lion and the Sun by Artist Troy Richard Thomas

                       The cold finger of the fog
              It reaches out and touches the heart
                  Turns the bones of a man cold
               The finger twists and turns inside
                    Bone crusher, cold miser
              The tips of your fingers go numb
              Your grip on your paddle loosens
            Your hands are frosted to the paddle
       You do a mind battle till you hit the shore
        Even your big toe starts to feel the cold
                  You do a tap dance below
       Like an animal made out of a snow cone
     The fog creeps and covers the wooded cliffs
                        It hides everything
       You're left with your compass and ears.

Poetry from the book {The Lion and the Sun} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas