Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
There once lied a sleeping town ,
were no hens layed their eggs on the ground.
There were no carts filled with grain ,
off to the market on this harvest day .

No barking dogs ,
or crying child ,
or cockerels with a **** a doodle dooo !

Just the sound of the church bells ring ,
thankful to God for their harvest of wheat and corn .

Now the.men wore hats ,
the ladies pritty ribbons and bows .
The paster dressed in black ,
a long Cassock with piercing eye.

The congregation had the eyes of lambs ,
cought on every word ,
as nought could be heard .

The sermon was of sobering thought ,
that without Gods help we are but nought .
That angels might open dungeon cells
and the strange old lady down the road ,
dos’nt really consort with the dead ,
or so I’m told !

Now the preacher in black who was so brave ,
closed the Bible with a smile ,
which turned to a frown ,
for there were many souls to save .
“ Go in peace I wish you well ,
for there are many this day bound for hell .

The tins for the needy and the poor were simply stacked ,
with a ribbon and wreath ,
and delivered to open doors ,
even to the lady who didn’t smile ,
who fed the cat remains of ,
what ever lied in the dregs of the soup !

So when the last hymn was sung of poems of old of storms to come ,
and title waves ,
that lead the dead to run back to their graves ,
tea and cake was served to the ladies with ribbons and bows ,
and the gents with hats smoked and rubbed their chins .

Meanwhile an elderly gent waited by the gate ,
he had no friends ,
he didn’t go in ,
but waited for the wind to arrive .

He smiled as the first gust arrived ,
holding onto his hat just the same ,
he turned then walked home again.
There were no carts with all their merchandise,
no barking dogs ,
or children’s screams ,
for now the village was lost in a sleeping dream .

Just the church bells toll that could be heard for the harvest of souls ,
to thank God for their crops to yeald .
The ladies bonnets ,
the men wore ties ,
the preacher wore black well betide .

The sermon was of sobering thought ,
that without Gods help we are but nought !

That Angels may open dungeon cells ,
and the strange old lady down the road ,
who nobody speaks of ,
Is not as mad as all were told .

Now  the  preacher man who was so brave ,
Who dressed in black with souls to save ,
closed his Bible with a grimise ,
then a smile ,
there are many on their way to hell ,
there is no time to wait ,
I wish you well .

For the tins are stacked all neatly in a pile ,
for the poor and needy ,
and the strange old lady ,
down the road who has a cat ,
or so I’m told .

And so the sweet melodies of heavens songs rendered to thee ,
of storms to come ,
thunder and rain ,
for nothing will be the same again .
For when everything is gathered in only then the storms begin ,
if I may borrow a poem or fable or so I’m told !

An old man waits for the service to end ,
he never goes in ,
he has no friends ,
but loves the hymns and awaits the winds ,
the leaves rustle ,
as  rain drops fall .

He smiles as a gust of wind nearly blows his hat off .
So as autumns leaves start to fall ,
on golden carpets with reddish glow ,
Cold  winds and rains fall
beckon us one and all .
The hosts of God in their heavenly gaze ,
look forever down on Gods earthly parade ,
of expectant souls so close ,
so dear await their heavenly bodies ....

For it was into life you bore me ,
Into earths sun you draw me ,
ever to you’re gardens of delight.

For it was in the gardens of pleasure we roamed ,
amid the Crystal fountains and pillars of marbel and gold .

You gave me love ,
you gave me light ,
You gave me every pleasure my heart could hold ,

warm was the day ,
cool was the night ,
yet you’re simple pleasures were too much for me to behold .

For I cried out for the cool of the night in the heat of the day ,
yet craved for the warmth of the sun ,
when the moon went away .

So like Satan I fell on insergent wings took flight ,
down down I fell much to Satan’s pure delight,
further and further away from the sun ,
to the dust of the earth .
My insurgent wings that once gave flight ,
are now my only shelter to the beating rains ,
on this God forsaken night .


The only food I have found ,
are the bones of man left in this hole in the ground ,
for there are creatures here bereft of skin ,
for here lies the remains of every man here within .

There is no light ,
no love just fear ,
for I have no idea what has happened here ?
Here i am hungry,
naked and cold
In the light of the sun my dreams have turned old .

Then a light from the sun I saw from afar ,
It’s beam ,
brought warmth to my skin ,
gave flesh to my bones ,
and on the wings of Christ Jesus alone ,
brought me back home ,
as love and light took to flight ,
Light and love went home .
I. Am back wahoooooh thank you h p x
The devil came a knocking ,
he just won’t go away ,
I told him it’s past bedtime,
and a prayer is on its way .

Yet still  he rattles his bones at my door ,
of souls he once cought  ,

and doesn't bother anymore.

Yet here am I all alone ,
with an eye for all the ladies and pritty young girls .

With their chandlers they bring ,
to ply me with drink .
For in their music halls they sing .
Sordid songs for a shilling and six ,
and dance on the tables champagne in one hand ,
conducting the choir ( with the other ) .

Now mr Charrington a Godly sacred man preaching the Lord ,
the best he can .
Yet the devils bones have still much more to say ,
about the ladies charms that seem here to stay .

So the moral be ( if there be one to tell )
follow the devils bones ,
one way to hell !
But if virtue I hold how honoured I might be ,
to know the king of love Christ Jesus ,
eternally .
And bless the ones that to this day ,
find virtue ,
and goodness be ,
with Christ Jesus eternally .

And O that old devil may rattle his bones across the gate of his grave
yard all on his own ,
just one thing I pray ,
you won’t turn the light off ,
and leave me alone .
.
In a field of pure delight I watched the leaves ,
lifted by the wind ,
dance !
Like girls with daisies in their hair ,
held hands without due care ,
run around their play ground ,
laughing and shouting.
Faster they run ,
round and around ,
untill like leaves they fell to the ground .
As the wind died ,
then picked up again ,
the leaves took to flight and the girls danced again .
Untill scattered to all corners of a field ,
whistling,
howling
chased by boys ,
who stole their dolls away ,
like dogs in a field let off their leash ,
in the middle of the day .
Then  just like leaves ,
to the tolling of a bell ,
were swept inside ,
never ,
to be seen again .
Next page