The steps to the museum were many ,
you helped me climb the stairs .
Before my eyes ,
behind every glass frame you had placed every living ***** of me .

You bought a program which you called art ?
A wooden chair .

Before  me lied exhibit number one .
Burnt out ,
torchered ,
bleeding ,
dying ,
I saw my heart ,
in a frame ,
In front of me .

For it was there in a dungeon you left me ,
with nothing but stale bread to eat ,
you hung you’re axe of judgement O me .
For What ?

For it was deaths daughter of the crimson lip ,
that had touched my lips .
A traitor ? Not I ,
A herotic maybe ?
For her words were like flowing rivers eastwards towards the sea.
And her chambers  had  a soft fluffy bed .

Angels hold locks and keys ,
they hover above my head ,
a jailers cart you ride with horse and whip ,
With me clinging to iron bars inside ,
with chains upon my heels.

Oh butterfly where are you’re butter cups ?
Where is you’re lavender wine ?

As we left the museum the doors were bolted shut ,
and the evenings light caught the roof tops of a red sunset ,
forever frozen in time .
As if two thousand lovers prayed .
Could this be our lasting memory,
our final serenade ?

I had a beautiful dream   ,
that was once all about you .
you were standing there with flowers ,
with a daisy in you’re hair ,
chewing hay,
with a smile that said take me there .
For now falling stars they are all I can see,
out there in the distance that’s you and me .

I first saw you at twilight ,
when you first saw me at dawn .
you’re eyes were wild ,
they lit up the night ,
and the goosebumps you gave me when you had me in you’re sight !
You had no shoes or stockings to wear ,
and we danced untill moonlight shone brightest in the tranquil air .


I touched you so gently that somehow brought a tear to you’re eye ,
and it wasn’t for the stranger that just walked on by .

A thousand candlesticks I will light to light up the moon ,
and you will place a thousand more ,
to replace the lost stars in the skies ,
when the ferdiment starts to crumble and die .

That beautiful flower I picked from you’re breast ,
as day light approaches ,
won’t you be my guest ?
As all Gods colours we shall see before our eyes .

Champagne for the morning oh what a surprise,
as we sat here quietly waiting for the sun to arrive .

She perched on a tree for a little while ,
her feathers as colourful and bright of all Gods creation ,
when she began to sing.
Her  plumage sang as if to worship God ,
I had never ever seen such a beautiful thing .
Her beak was of a golden colour ,
far brighter than the stars ,
her breast was of a morning sparrows first call to brighten up the day .
Then all was as it was meant to be ,
Gods peace ,
Joy and love and harmony.

Then the crows like vultures gathered as she sweetly sung ,
and they descended on the most beautiful bird as Gods creation sung .They pecked at its bright colours ,
untill not red breast but blood did I see ,
and they stole her radiant plumage
to give to the devil to see what he might think ?

Of falling stars and heavy rain clouds ,
her feathers turned to black ,
and her song was full of sorrow ,
a requiem of man .
How I longed to see the colours so brightly she had pruned ,
but now a distant memory ,
for her home was Gods own garden ,
and it’s fruits of juicy ripe ,
and black is now her garments ,
when once everything was bright
there was no turning back,
for it was the crows who stole her colours
and her  golden beak .


Thankfully this bird wasn’t finished ,
It had one more song to sing ,
the sweetest songs of heaven ,
i heard as she flapped her magnificent wings .

It’s feathers once more became dazzling  ,
far brighter than before,
for  in its beak lay love ,
and I would see that bird no more.

I yes I betrayed him where he knelt ,
alone when he thought he was not by himself .

I betrayed the one I love ,
more than the things I know I love .
More than anything I think I own ,
my mind ,
my self ,
my mortal throne .

I betrayed him I know not why ,
Perhaps it was the golden carpet stairs ,
that lead me to on high ?
For I have always been afraid of heights ,
especially ones with that are so bright !

For broken vessels do I own ,
no not I but in Christ alone .

I betrayed though I know not why ?
For such intense questions usually pass me by .

For he was in his deepest need ,
the hour had come ,
and all my needs for sleep and rest ,
underneath this unearthly night .

How would I know what morning would bring ?
a **** crowing ,
oh he knew it all ,
and so ,
that was so many years ago .
Put back together like broken pots ,
like  his death upon a cross ,
will one day be made whole ,
in Jesus name do we own .

I once bought a bird in an antique shop ,
without any wings .,
Although it was made of metal ,
and didn’t move an inch ,
the shop keeper said “ for a farthing ,
you can teach it to fly ,
just buy his wings off me “
and I said “ goodbye “ .

So I took the bird home and ,
left it on the fence ,
for days he looked at me ,
not one move did he make .

I returned to that shop with a farthing to buy ,
those majestic wings so it could  fly ,
yet still it didn’t move or make a sound ,
and I was kinda feeling a little let down .

Then i decided it needed life in its wings ,
I read it great poems ,
and taught. It to sing .
Giving life to its being ,
I then quoted Shakespeare and sonnets of old ,
then sat down to think !
“ This bird dos’nt give a jot what I think .?

I closed the curtain and bid it good night ,
then in the morning,
It must have taken off to flight  ,
back to the antique shop ,
of all the places to be ,
pride of place without any wings it sat
Majestically.

I

A young mother and her young daughter cuddled  together where they lay .
The  mother held her daughter tight ,
  Shivering on this perolus  night .
As the cabin lights went out ,
and sea water slowly ,
slowly moved above their mouths ,
then heads ,
they drowned .

Outside the clear skies hid not one star from their eyes ,
as Angels beckoned their souls this night ,
below whistles and the sound of oars paddling away ,
they looked down ,
onto souls that reached for the skies ,
Instead of their bodies drifting out to sea.
And so  with a mighty wrench as if the ship ,
was saying her final goodbye .
With  all its marble stair cases and fine dinning rooms ,
and the thousands left ,
like them would rise.

Caught in angels wings ,
not for them the Carpathia awaits ,
that is not their happy fate !

Two dolls tossed apon the waves ,
but that is all that could be seen ,
from what man said God could not sink,
lies vanished beneath the waves .

The world seems strange today ,
and yesterday was so wonderful,
like the first days of spring .
For now the winds are a howling ,
my door a rattle and a bang,  
outside  lies  a dessert waste where golden sands used to be.

And   the Colorado river just flows on ,
and mother nature plays her tuneful song ,
her river flows on .


For where  there was  once fresh water ,
fish in great numbers lie dead upon the shore ,
the stench of dead fish bones ,
fill my nostrils once more .

Where fishing boats set sail on this man made lake ,
like a fruit from the garden so delightfuly sweet ,
yet forbidden by God for us to eat .

And that mighty Colorado river just flows on ,
that Colorado river just keeps singing her song ..

For what man has done now lies a chemical waste ,
and play time is over for all his  rich  and famous guests .
So if a moral be ,
don’t change the land ,
chop down the trees ,
for the rivers will run where ever mother nature please .

And the birds will sing a happier tune ,,
and the old oak will still be there next June .
So for all of mans thoughtless acts
Mother Nature still bites back .