There's is beauty in the pipes
Or so we're told
So we would like
Wether
Stone
Lead
Copper
Or polycarb
Are in them liquid?or gas?
Perhaps a solid slow moving mass?
I feel quite confident now
They seem to be heading
Toward the Bar.

In the branch of a tree,
in the petal of a flower,
in a grain on the beach,
life exists in an hour.
It exists in a laugh,
in a melancholy sob,
in a mind’s fleeting thought
or a broken heart’s throb.

Sometimes I feel like Prometheus
Strung across that rock
Punished for giving

A lifetime of consequence
Begins to mock

The difference is
I could free myself
Whenever I’d like
A similar story
Shown in a more tragic light

My insides are pecked at
By all the people I love
I could hold out my hand to stop them
But if I do they would sob

Maybe tomorrow I can do it
Maybe tomorrow my love will extend
To the one who harbors it all in the end

I have to stop soon
For if I don’t I’ll be grey
The life draining out of me
With only one left to blame

The wind it howls through empty skies,
It carries whispers of the past.
Its call is one we can’t disguise.

It weeps for days that slowly rise,
For moments fleeting, yet so vast.
The wind it howls through empty skies.

The world has watched as time defies,
Each breath a storm that cannot last.
Its call is one we can’t disguise.

Through every dream, the wind complies,
It guides us where we stand surpassed.
The wind it howls through empty skies.

Beneath the clouds, the soul it tries,
To find a home, yet remains cast.
Its call is one we can’t disguise.

In quiet hearts, the wind replies,
A song of loss that’s fading fast.
The wind it howls through empty skies,
Its call is one we can’t disguise.

It’s  a grey sky with hint of  clouds
Warm humid air along the atmosphere
Upbeat day
Enjoying the heat

If there is a God, he whispered 'garlic bread' to Peter Kay
and 'Yellow' into the ear of a younger Coldplay.  
He gave Picasso a brand new angle
and told Isosceles the deep secrets of the triangle.  
He opened the eyes of a struggling Van Gogh
and calmed Will Tell Jnr. in the face of his father's levelled bow.
God's whisper and touch are as present now as ever,
just heed the prompts of our ever-present creator.