My deore,
I was alone ,
you saw me cry ,
the day you lost that twinkle in you’re eye ,
In the quietness of space and time ,
a gentle breeze softly blew .

You saw me crying
Not one tear drop you knew that landed on thy brow ,
or the trickle of blood from you’re forehead into thy eye ,
Somehow ?
The rain forests of heaven their down pours my soul ,
quenched ,
somehow ?

Here come the demons with their chains and tails ,
Cow gut brains ,
and hoofs of blood ,
yet flee in the name of Christ this God of love .



Sins charms I have sat with ,
a table set for two ,
she rolls her eyes ,
only to spit me out like tinder ,
for me to light her anew .

Rolling hills and streams have gathered ,
their lost sheep look up to me
their hoofs caught in the thicket ,
they wait so patently.
As i wander see the sun roll over the mountains tops ,
their eyes still follow me ,
bewitched never still .

My foot once sure and true now slips on clay ,
which falls away .
“ Bind you’re eyes and you’re ears ,
let you’re heart be still ,
look to the breeze and falling dew ,
never let the demons dance so they will follow you .
Like weeds that grow when you are still ,
don’t let them ever bend to their will “   ( the sheep)

See the dead who dance with the priest with a pole ,
he cut off the serpent heads so I’m told .
He hung them on poles on the mountain top .

“;Bind you’re ears
and you’re eyes bind tight
for these things will be you’re ruin ,  “. (. Sheep )
and end in endless night .

Let darkness descend for I have long ,
lost my deore ,
“ Take my hand my long lost deore ,
take my staff ,
for on rock you shall now stand,
for anything else is sinking sand “ .

You’re casket lies open ,
You’re bones have grown cold ,
In silent whispers the curtain unfolds .

The days of walking with you are now O ,
the evening shadows fade ,
for my days with you are gone now ,
let the yellow daffodils fade .

So soon you were gone ,
left me without care due ,
a broken heart ,
a closing door ,
an empty chair ,
without you .

I still look for you when the starlings nest ,
when busy people come home to rest ,
when the telephone,
just missed a call .

An empty house nights curtain draws ,
When God sprinkled starlight on heavens of old ,
Skewen towns lights shimmered like gold .

For you’re home coming awaits no table or stairs ,
no cups to wash ,
or socks to fold .
Where no child wails for his ma ma in the night .

Palaces of Gold for you my love ,
Heavenly songs of Gods great love ,
and though you lie in casket cold ,
just once more to hold you’re hand ,
for you to say ,
“I loved you so “.

There was once a flat in Aberdeen ,
with many books ,
amugst the coffee cups and cigarette buts ,
and bottles of drink ,
stood out one ,
with grim piercing smile ,
held a chill up to my spine ,
a spinderling tale ,
a haunted spirit ,
a young boys mind in ruin .

Untill day dreams and sleep return ,
for in. our minds spiders find time ,
to awaken what has been broken.

For now I have awoken  ,
before the birdsong that herolds the dawn ,
a paper mache mask hangs in mid air .
many many years from here ..
Behind it lies corridors of loneliness,
bittersweet ,
butterscotch candy flakes ,
the dorcedanyas mirrors lost in time and space .
where every room a closed door waits ,
and silence echoes reflections in my grandmas mirror ,
that I’m told go on forever !


Am I awake or am I dead ?
yet a feeling of being alone ,
for his loneliness is a floral bed ,
when paper face takes off his paper mache head .

A closed door an empty smile ,
a mirror that masks the truth in lies ,

For if music halls could still dance and sing ,
he would still be the toast to the king of swing .

His only companions are in his head ,
they goaded him ,
they put the thoughts into his head ,
they told him they wished he were dead .

Now in silence he hangs above my bed ,
at three in the morning,
just before dawn ,
and birdsong breaks this hopeless mourn ,
there’s a knock on my door ,
a spirit of a lady with the most beautiful smile ,
holding lilies ,
In a white long dress ,
awaits to enter her.church on time .

Before my eyes from this paper mask a man with beaming smile I saw in black bow tie ,
and morning suit ,
his buttercup candy flake .
Hand in hand they wait for the sun ,
to vanish in light and love ,
to where heavens chorus breaks .


For loneliness has been and gone ,
and fear has been replaced by morning song ,
for my bedroom is filled with the first beams of light ,
that has cast the spell of loneliness into the night .

The Church bells rang like a fog horn lost out at sea ,
Is there anyone there “ it sang gracefully .
The suns light  hid behind pale blue skies ,
it was eight in the morning in this quiet market town .

The birds could be heard blackbird ,
Chaffinch , thrush ,
all wrapped up in coffee or brunch ,
all were lost to this light house near cliffs on the sea?

Blue bells and blackberry shells ,
fish and chips for tea .
A. quiet harbour a fisherman’s prayer ,
that none should be lost at sea.

And soon the coffee cups were empty ,
soon the bed were made ,
Soon the breakfast dishes were lying empty in the sink .

The towns folk like fish were drawn to a net ,
the old sea dog smiled ,
and stopped pulling on his bell ,
the fish were caught and smiling ,
their souls were saved from hell .

That evening as the waves crashed upon the sand ,
Laver bread and bacon for supper as fishermen’s wife’s ,
Lit fires awaiting their men that may never again see dry land .

Dear God ,
on bended knee bring my man back to me “

The old sea dog climbed the stairs ,
round and round those sturdy old steps ,
and pulled that bell with all his might ,
that none should be lost on this dark night .

she loves to dance in bedlam
to the beat the shadows throw
in a gown of sequin macabre
since her mind left home

where webs of  deceit hang from chandlers
and madness is the party game
blowing the horns of something's wrong
in an eerie game of charades

the cook that's in her kitchen
bakes a don't dare go there souffle
though she dips her fingers in it
through out her darken days

you may take the chance in joining her in dance
on this the razors edge
when all is said and the day has bled
she pulls the sheets of madness up on her bed

The Pendulum swings above my head ,
with every swing once ,
twice ,
it falls ,
the jailers keys are turned ,
my histerical wife weeps for my death for ....,
the paper mache man is here .
his pendulum swings once ,
twice .......


..
The old clock chimes once ,
twice ,
It’s pendulum swings once ,
twice ...
It’s two in the morning,
from these dreams did I awake ?
There are dreams within dreams i. can hardly partake .
Yet here am I frozen in terror in my bed ,
from dreams I have awoken to find you staring at me from the rafters , from my four poster bed .
As in fear I lie awake to you’re silence ,
for in nothing did you say ,
a mask of paper mache you wear to hide you’re face away ,
of behind lies a darkness of sadomasconistic  misery and space .
Am I dreaming or could I be dead ?  
Is reality. drowning in my head ?

A cold wind sweeps across my room ,
You are still there but now you are staring at the moon .

How bright it’s glow so high in the night ,
and when sunlight comes you will be gone in the light .

It worries you ,
This sunlight ,
when dawn appears for you’re darkness will be exposed by the passing of the years .

The birds are in song their melodies sweet ,
and you have vanished in some daylight retreat .
For the sun now demands its time to shine ,
for all darkness disappears in the light of time ..