A FRONT ROW INVITATION TO THE DYLAN TREASURES

By Erik Lastick

Stay here at Vaudevillian ancestry… folklore i adore… these mega miles, smiles, yet from a sun— and a pasty pie wood-stove’s wood-bury— with hoards and restocks… and be of that of weird old America… it’s yodelling, knows of Bobby pins…papers and writ—twists. Earn him like a causeway of one’s whole generational long.

The troupe door is a brand new opening— to what one’ wants, Desires and cause. Culture vested across these thought-provokes…and of the plains.

The prairie roads too look upon. Places that inspire may it be Mr. Dylan. Will see him in our very minds—– across the Minnesota timbers. The star-dolled skies. He will be there at the rolling thunders—-with all the reflections of the old painted on face of lore…and his accompanied fine brash female violinist..and an audience of the many splendors of old lore…residences of all it’s charms.

The hay-rings and smoke things—too a peasant’s delight. Come all gatherers—this country old road made as if fixtures of mini mansions in our starry eyes…as the pasty and hatted folk dancer appears!

PART 2  TENDER STRIKES AT TRANQUILITY

Mister Dylan’s tender strikes at tranquility. A win, win, along Elston borough rustic firelight…l ogs hold riches in all one’s heart and mind. Gunnery call for peace at push-button river—tending way of secret passages of the scales across nightfall…and one’s own honor guards.

Wake of the lakes that find. Cold are the waters, but not the feel. It’s gotta linger. ‘Listen and know’, too what settles at the bottom of where the underseas—looks’ at new beginnings.

Masters not of wars…as Dylan sings of the right time…and of the slow of waves, of the waters…free flow streams of peace, one can find. Duluth proud be of their doctor. Dylan voice of music is the great medicine…and of answers in joining—too the knows of real riches…go the walk by the river.. as.one fine lake,as well, and oceans of it! He has, as it is love…too the simple of what his flow indicates, and really says; yet all must really listen—as he stretch, and guitar strapped…tightly fit capo. Arms visual as light…and fill the jacketed cool of leather, as an Armour. A trust. Leg lean and rest upon the lone of all seers. Write and dances like the bear cub blend’s of family love. Gold be as a grape of the finest taps of freedom—and all too often what few see.What few have.

Dylan write a song—deep rich flows in metaphor. Rough tracks, which all to often give of an impression of pain. Hard ways…and little doubt of hope…yet may we be wrong in the assumption…it’s interpretation of lyric…and of song—as maybe there are many a clue…a ray of light lay in quiet peace. Shelter from the storm…and tender strikes at tranquility. Piece by piece…by peace, by piece.

#bobdylan #rollingthunder #roughandrowdy