Hubble's space is a place
Far removed from earthly tastes
Enlarged small won't energise all
For what is a constellation,
Under magnification?

A man went soul searching
After feeling life's longing
He assumed his soul abroad
On some peak, tied with silver cord
Admitting he was bored sick
He picked a walking stick
..
  ...
     ....
         ......
After many a walk
He found his stick could talk
'You seek your soul' said the stick
'Why don't you throw me in a creek?'

Having done so I was surprised
Sitting here
It's myself that has arrived.

There is nothing in all things
Unless the soul is participating

I decided to lèad my leàd to goalless gold
Now I refuse to cònduct by others condùct
Before I bowed until I was bowed
Now I arm my many axes with blazing axes
With this my search for còntent could reach contènt

When I come too dangerously close they close themselves off
Though some I meet with conflicting conflict
We contèst lightheartedly but end in revealing còntest
We both crooked to find the crooked
To deliberate if know weakness was to be deliberately revealed
And desèrt the loser to mental dèsert
The challenge over in a minùte mìnute
I mòderàte the other to the mòderate
This would be the 2nd I nùmber to make me nùmbèr to other's illusions

I still can't objèct to the òbject of my desires
Eventually I will prodùce my pròduce for all to see
If I don't excuse myself for my excuses this is surely possible
My recreàtion an attempt at the rècreation of awareness
I will wind with the wind until I reach my goal

The scarab sits atop its collected sphere
Wielding its mental sextant
It chases the sun
And it gives its life direction

Man sits atop the same
How we yearn for unreachable ideals
The gold of perfection
Ra, the sun

So scarab we aren't much different
We spend our lives with eyes fixed on the past
Blind to the future
We roll our cherished ***** into so many obstacles
Purely out of our condition
Strike the baring rock and become lost.

We climb back up on our ball
To find our golden god
And continue as if before
Our endless journey to find Tum

Truly, more ornament than dog
You are warmer than a fireplace when I enter a room
A beckoning of comfort
A cosy delight
Time pulls you to the ground as you begin to stretch
But as time stretches you
You turn into an antique

Old Humfry...
We wonder if you are still alive at times
And with paranoid anticipation
We look for your heartbeat
As you meet our eyes in reassurance

Old Humfry...
Now when I visit years past
I'm always surprised at how healthy Humfry looks
He still had years and years in him it seems.
Until one day when Mother told me
He has been dead for 2 years
She had him stuffed and nobody noticed

Old Humfry...
A symbol of home You remain forever.

The tree watches...
As the fire creeping consumes
Friends and rivals all

The tree watches...
As all it knows becomes ash
Waving farewell in the wind
A leaf ushers the smoke
To it's new home in the sky