i hope  she thinks of you
when the sun shines
in her morning window
and when the moon is full at night
i hope is your face what comes to her mind

when beautiful songs play on the radio
i hope she wants to share them with you
cause i know music is like therapy to you

i hope she thinks of you
before closing her eyes at night
and in her dreams she kisses you
a billion times
i hope she smiles at your picture in b&w;
that she sees all the beauty you carry
inside,
outside.

i hope she talks with you
and she wonders if you're feeling all right
if you had lunch
if you sleep enough
if you rest at night
i hope she asks you about your fears
and dreams
i hope she's there for you
when pain hits you the worst.

i hope she doesn't hurt you.

i hope she gives you the happiness
i could never bring to you
i hope she cares about you
at least as much
as i do.

i hope she loves you

You were the first tomb I ever knew.

Sweet sixteen,

All tangled up in you.
You carried me like a chariot,
I know now how hard it was,
to bring me up on your own,

Seventeen,

child teething and broken evenings when you could of been day dreaming or on the scene - if it wasn't for your love for me.
Implicitly so pretty,

Eighteen years old as I crawled and drew on the walls with lipstick red,
and painted the toenails of my father - with you, only for you.
There was plenty of places we had lived
in ice cream castles together
and you were only twenty three,
when I was seven.
So many lessons learnt and fingers burnt as I grew up in a fairytale together on fairywell road.
Me and you together, only for you.
Then you got married and I was your baggage but you carried me so strong but I developed bad habits,
by the time you were my age now.

At twenty nine,
I was a teenager.
How did you do what you did for me,
I'll never know.
I just know I couldn't do the same and you maintained your allure, class and dignity and nature of the finest kind,
Only for you, my queen without a crown.
And now you may be forty six and I live miles away,
I'm 29 and been awake for days
I still miss you each day,
And you gave me a new family,
A brother and sister and a role model too,
It was only for me and it was only for you.
Now I hope you're proud and I'm never surprised when you forgive my sins through my puppy dog eyes.

Only for you. Only for you X

This hammock is my God Spot
It is stretched between two trees
And I always seem to learn a lot
As it bounces in the breeze.

As I sway I pray and listen
For God's calling in the wind
And perhaps he will send a vision
Forgiving me for all the times I've sinned.

My hammock is a double wide
In fact it has to be
For Jesus and I sit side-by-side
Held up for God's great love for me.

Forget about all your worry
And dwell in the presence of our Lord
There is no need to be in a hurry
When sabbatical has such great reward.

I take down down my hammock and shake out the sand
Then begin the journey home
But the Spirit does not let go of my hand
In case I stumble as I roam.

And I will think back on my spiritual vacation
And let my mind play dot-to-dot
As I wait in anticipation
For the next visit with my God Spot.

I bet you wouldn't put those tattoos on your gravestone

Not that's it's any of my business,
But you look like an idiot,

And I heard you say that girls name and it ain't the same as the one on your neck as your necking today,

Is it mate,

And I don't mean to come across boring,
But I'm sure your mothers name ain't Tory either.

Necks covered in angel wings,
and misdemeanours;
I hope there's someone watching over you to see you make those mistakes.

It looks pretty cool though - make no mistakes.

But I can see through your thick rimmed spectacles.

Making a spectacle of yourself when you can clearly see.

A small package bugling through your skinny jeans
And of course Dr Martens,

And a quiff that's bleached.

Farewell flower child,
Don't look so amazed and glare,
When people stare at you and your down right ridiculous tattoos,

On the platform after me that's a par for you,

I was only passing through,
With naked skin,
Untouched by ink.

You would think I didn't want to leave a mark in this world were in.

She sat there crying and rubbing her bruised face as he sat there rubbing his bruised knuckles.

I Ran

She had this hedonistic Houdini nature,
She escaped from Shiraz,
Her personal Alcatraz,
She laughed as I asked;
How did you escape?

"I Ran" she said "I Ran"

She was particularly Persian,
Beautiful soul,
Perfect prose,
stunning, gorgeous,
My dreams came true,
As we ran the gauntlet between our acquaintances judgemental glare.

She walked through the door,
With shallow breath and a panting chest;
Windswept hair.
Late.

How did you get here I asked?

"I Ran"

She came so far,
To say I was her King.
Her shy Shah,
She said.
The concept of this,
Flew over my head,

As I asked where she was from,
she paused for a second

&

told me she came from Iran.

by Wendell Berry

You will be walking some night
in the comfortable dark of your yard
and suddenly a great light will shine
round about you, and behind you
will be a wall you never saw before.
It will be clear to you suddenly
that you were about to escape,
and that you are guilty: you misread
the complex instructions, you are not
a member, you lost your card
or never had one. And you will know
that they have been there all along,
their eyes on your letters and books,
their hands in your pockets,
their ears wired to your bed.
Though you have done nothing shameful,
they will want you to be ashamed.
They will want you to kneel and weep
and say you should have been like them.
And once you say you are ashamed,
reading the page they hold out to you,
then such light as you have made
in your history will leave you.
They will no longer need to pursue you.
You will pursue them, begging forgiveness.
They will not forgive you.
There is no power against them.
It is only candor that is aloof from them,
only an inward clarity, unashamed,
that they cannot reach. Be ready.
When their light has picked you out
and their questions are asked, say to them:
"I am not ashamed." A sure horizon
will come around you. The heron will begin
his evening flight from the hilltop.