I gave you flowers ,
and you spat in my face ,
you cussed untill I could take it no more .
But still there was something that told me you still love me so .
For your hair was ruffled ,
and you had too much to drink ,
now what was I surposed to think ?

Now Would it bide me some time ,
with all its horses ,
Carrages and fine wine
Porcelaine figurerines in gardens so rare
If I offered these things for you to ****** my hair.                                    Roaring  fires when you return from the snow
So I could warm your dainty feet when ever they get cold .

All these things I would give unto you ,
for a moment of your time ,
and a kiss from me to you .
On your cheek if that’s alright by you ,
then on your lips if I could only unbridle you.

For the four winds of love to summon you ,
To bridle your passions on hot summer nights ,
To feel your warm touch of your delicate thighs.

For where the two lovers roam I shall take you there,
far away where nothing dies ,
no dreams of loves begotten by pride .

So if you said yes to these which I adore ,
then greet me with flowers when we meet down by the shore

“. Oh I will greet you with flowers ,
and let me bring the wine ,
I shall ****** your hair and have a good time ,
and when we have had too much to drink ,
we shall bid our farewells
with the gulls of the sea ,
will wash away what memories you ever had of me .

One evening when the lights were still
bright  and shiney bawballs that dangled
and  had once clung on for dear life,
now started to fall .
one by one  .
then the elphs and the nymphs  !   ,
one and all .
they knew the end had begun. .
The pixies fled to the four corners of the wood  ,
along with the fairys who were upto no good !
For even the angel who sat on the tree
saw from far away what was to be ,
the creeping darkness on this twelth night opened its mouth to swollow
them whole !

so The Angel spread her wings of light
and devised a plan for only one could
be queen of this land .


And so the night put up a fight
as the harpie stole souls that were
not hers by right ,

before she was vanquest by  her hand
and sent back to never never land
and when the centaur and spinx
had fled the kind angel said
whos next ?
And so the clown that slumped against a tree just laughted and laughed,
then when his head fell off
he laughted even more ,
even though his head was on the floor .
Then when his arms fell off he laughted some more .
Untill his insides split and everything ended
up on the floor .,
and so he laughted some more .
So mother said put your toys away that tree has to come down today .

When black  clouds and white butterflys are all that i can see  ,
and  the towers of Balam stand tall ***** infront of me ,
and the bells of the convent i now ring
with two stubs for arms
and yet no one pitys my cry
and lets me in .
then let  what was lost  in heaven bestow
unto me ,
what  heavenly ghostly apperishans tell .
that  two birds of paradise might  fly down from heaven above
to place a ring of shaphires before my 
Queen of love

when  if all that is left are dafffodills
on Welsh green fields and valleys  ,
so fair ,
and a call from mama ,
thats fine by me for  i wont be missing supper today .
But if what is found is love in my sweet Alices smile than that to me
is worth more than gold ,
if i find saphires in her eyes .

.Bur  if all that is left are daffodils
then thats alright by me
then
ALICE  and i wil be cycling tandom
on our way
home for tea .

It is him ,
The man who writes,
the man who makes my heart beat
every night.every time I am with .
For I have passed out  in fields of green ,
all alone with rolling clouds black some obscene ,
the paper wet from The rain ,
my eyes bleary  with pain ,
I wring them out with his words
all dripping and wet ,
and play them over again and again
in my head .
my clothes may be  wet from the day ,
but these silent memories just wont
go away
prostate on this field that I lay ,
I clutch his words into my breast
the silent words that are as yet unsaid,
though wind and rain assail my mast ,
all wretched and alone when these words have passed
Yet somehow I shall still remember him  in poetic words  and distant dreams ,
in gardens that have not let been covered in snow ,
for there will my  crocuses grow .
And if he dies and we have not met ,
a thousand of his words ,
will still lay in my bed

Violets and strings are how I think of you, that dance in velvet colours that aren’t always blue .
Hearts that murmur that are all  laced with strings ,
The bugle that sounds in the early hours is a dove ,
Is only captivated by your love .

And so as the birds awoke to  this melody of spring ,
then let summer awake in violets betrothed to their Queen .
Let bluebells fall when ever she is near ,
and castle trumpets a fanfare my dear ,
and minstols play their tamberenes when you are awake oh does
thy heart not leap to the sound .?
And when you raise your hands in all but jest ,
do. not the red wing and field fares migrate at your request ?

So to what accord did  that man lye upon her  breast ?
For he doth trouble my heart ,
that should beat even faster when he is near ,
and now wild horses have carried her  away ,
and all I can see are red kisses whey he lay ,
for  now I have tooth decay ,
for all her  sweet promise s only blackened my teeth
as blood now Stains those lovely silk sheets ,
O O food of my love,
was it so sweet in the mouth ,
but left a bitter taste ,
When all my teeth had fallen out .

T’was a morrow before St Nicholas ,
the air was stiff and cold ,
even the mice who were running about ,
took shelter from the cold .

Yet St Nicholas still had presents for all the poor and sick ,
their little eyes peered out from behind their curtains
their mothers shood them away ,
‘ after all ‘ St Nick won’t call unless your good ,’
so the fairy stories say .’
Then mother slammed the book and sent them off to bed.
Their poor staving children still needed to be fed .


And yet far away in Bethlehem Angels spread their wings,
six thousand years of waiting and at last th3 angels sing .

And an elderly man who was waiting could now die in peace ,
and so St Nicholas handed out his presents for the lonely and the week .
And so on Christmas morning all the children had enough to eat .

Not in the large houses did he bother with their gas fires at night ,
T’was the  needy and the wanton that brought hope on this holy night

And so for the desperate and the needy ,
For hot food and warm blankets and a bed to sleep ,
he still walks the lonely streets .

And so far away in Bethlehem that wasn’t that far at all ,
a new born baby tomorrow will be born,
A saviour for the desperate ,
The wanton and the week ,
and all those at Christmas time with not enough food to eat .