Cora you’re beauty is like,
the humming bird when  suckling her young ,
she feeds feeds on nectar under the hot rays of the sun.
In their nests of their branches above where you sleep .
It is where the
flamingos fly and rest their wings under a blood red sky .

And when I listen to the streams that ripple in your heart ,
let me not be the one that tears it apart .

O  let me then plant curry plants at your door ,
so when you awake you might smell their sweet fragrant  flower once more.

For. When  the moon will rise its orbit will set in your gaze ,
and we shall let it wonder around all our days .

And i shall tell of the milk maiden O when her work is done.,
to bring milk to you every day so you can separate your curds and whey .,
under the gaze of the midday sun .


Yet when you wipe the sweat from under your brow
it brings only the smell of lavender some how ?
beit you graze a finger ,
or splinter your thumb.

And when the ravens call ,
as they do every day when the night time falls
cover your eyes and ears
for you must not tell of
what they have seen ,
and what they have heard .

And as for the scoundrel who forever knocks at your door
who always demands more more more .

More for his master ,
more money than bread,
that was meant ,
to feed your poor children ,
and keep a roof above their head .


For if I ever see him again ,
no good will become ,
should I not want to smite his breath from under my brow,
and leave him dying
In the heat of the sun ,
Untill deaths dark angel shall spread her wings all around ,
and commit his bones unto the ground .


It’s where th£ ravens rest in hollow trees ,
and love is brought gently to her knees .
And death is but a hollow crown ,
It’s where maggots and flies shall gather,
all around .

There was a dolls house down my lane ,,
where dolls were mended and restored  just the same ,
as when I looked in wonder through a door ,
with all the other children who had gone before .

Now my broken Belinda had many faults ,
she didn’t scream ,
and she didn’t shout ,
and when I wound her up ,
She didn’t move ,
or play hopscotch with my other toys .
She just sat at the end of my room looking quite upset ,
and sometimes very annoyed .

But dr Archibald was very kind ,

he restored  my doll at no expense .
He wound her up ,
and she began to speak out loud ,
to play hopscotch with the bears and the other crowd ,
who couldn’t talk ,
Or move ,
or shout .

And poor Belinda soon was all alone ,
with no one to talk to ,
She sat by herself at the foot of the stairs ,
where all the other toys poked and stared .

Untill one day a charming ted ,
with buttons as bright as his shiny new vest ,
Who was charmed by her “ I’m Belinda ha ha ha “ s
and they sped away in his flashy new car ,
around and around my bedroom they went .
Untill one day they were sent underneath the stairs ,
into a room I never went .
Alone in th3 darkness ,
they are to this day ,
dreaming of the days ,
when they both sped away .

Go home to your mothers ,
go home and pick your dainty flowers ,
for the hours are short ,
and your days are long ,
go home this day with your mothers where you belong .

So the children came from the mills ,
who toiled all year to their masters will ,
who now were free ,
just for one day ,
to go home to their mothers ,
come what may .

For the flowers are free ,
in the blustery winds ,
that blow all day ,
and are never still .
Much like the child who to this day ,
Picks the wild flowers along the way .

The winds that once beat against  my door ,
which never give me rest .


For in the darkest hours thou watches over me
as wicker shapes that bends the bark ,
with which no  winds so foul should bear ,

and though this  roof. may   have holes. to mend ,
as he bangs and saws and threads ,
so that I am tempted not ,
Tis with these cloven hooves I tred
to mountainous pastures far away ,
to where no green grass is fed .

For he doth careth for
the blind ,
the sick ,
and the lame ,
those who do  not envy strife ,
yet brings not home it’s shame.

But in quiet pastures gently lays
he puts an end to war .
When  fierce wolves and dogs ,
take the shepherd from the door .

As darkness feasts upon the lamb ,
on hill tops far away ,
for danger is forever near ,
on cliffs tops ,
Left to die ?
No not I,
for it is in truth the good shepherd spake .
For all is said and done ,
and evening prayers are said ,
which quell the widows troubled brow ,
and holds fast the rebel tongue .
So as candel  light adorns the window frame ,
and waits for loved ones to appear ,
they know not how or when ,
When the day is done ,
and nightly clouds ,
draw ever near .
loved ones from out of the shadows shall appear                              from every field and farrow ,
the blind ,
the frail ,
and the lame .
O good shepherd won’t you guide me
home this very hour ,
to seek thy face again .

Where the poison ivy grows ,
Inside the castles keep ,
where knights once fought ,
and maidens still weep .
It’s where the cows and the bulls now chew at its cud ,
and where weeds grow where i once made love .

It’s Where My Amices. sweet sorrows. abides ,
as Poison ivy grows where once her sweet waters flowed ,
Into the apple of her eye .

And so she will remember the day of my death ,
with a lock of my hair ,
and the memory of my breath .
a scarlet ribbon tied to her hair ,
to remind her of me ,
when I wasn’t there .

For this knight through unto battle he went ,
to face the Kings foe in the battle of Lament .

And even though a thousand would die by his side ,
it still wasn’t enough for her heart to reside .

And yes my battle was long and hard ,
and she just wept ,
when the swords and the arrows flew,
down upon my shield ,
yet mortal wounds they
they bled ,
and died ,
Just so she could be with me by my side .

But my quest for her heart as a true friend ,
was to end in sorrow ,
again and again .

And yes there were other truer knights that courted her hand ,
and I would die with my mace and a purple flower in my hands .

Though chivelry waits in my castle on high locked away ,
With dragons by her side .
Alas when my day is done ,
the black Knight will take away ,
The prize he hath won .

And with all the finest ribbons she could have bought in the fair ,
none should  be as dainty ,
none would be as rare ,
as the ribbon she held ,
when I lost her love ,
let it be said ,
in the battle of Lament ,
I fought valliently for ,
my love .
And so the sun will set ,
and let it never rise again ,
for darkness hath brazen ,
a nobeler friend .
and so here must it end
In sweetest sorrow ,
again and again ,
the purple flower fades
it’s memories are of no tomorrows ,
for in sweetest sorrow must end .
Good bye my friend .***

And winter gave it’s stormy blast ,
where’s sales were lost to their riggin masts ,
and souls were cast down upon the waves ,
never to be see. Or saved .

But as the sailor gripped his mast
his fingers now a mix of blood and grit  ,
for days without water or food  he went

Before the freezing waters lapped around his waste ,
and all he could hear were the cry’s of his men ,
begging for mercy before another wave swilled then again .

Forty days and nothing to drink ,
Forty days of rotting meat
Forty days a sailor ,
and all without Ezmerelda .

And they all  missed their wives and ******
or ***** who used to tie them
to the floor ,
but above all the women they loved the more ,
there was no one like Ezmerelda

And now the waters are all around ,
and our sailors fingers bleed as frost.bight  cuts off his fingers and toes ,
but all he ever thinks of his days with Ezmerelder .


and still he sings ,
Forty days with nothing to drink ,
Forty days of rotting meat
before the waters took him down

I found myself once of desolate shores where the cliffs and rocks ,
found high  in their mountainous peaks ,
that once battered against the shore.,
thousands of years before ,
eroded against where the seagulls nest .
Far away from where ainchent city’s once fought,
but now found rest .

All of what’s left of them are statues of marble eroded by the sea .
once decorated in beautiful ornate colours grinded out of stone .
now left abandoned ,
alone .

And as I walked I came across a cliff ,
where seagulls flew far away from this land ,
to distant shores they took hold of the winds ,
and so I thought what a marvellous thing .
If I could fly just like them ,
Sumon up the power of gods not men ?

But as  I spread my wings ,
and I did not fly ,
instead my wings
Plummeted down from the skies ,
to die .

Where ainchent worlds once had lived
we’re now lost in sandstone marbel and grit .
And I saw various colours of small fish as I fell ,
deep down below where the waters swell .

And so I began to wish that I was up there ,
In the clean blue heavenly clouds  ,
somewhere where heavenly voices can be found .

But alas my wings now we’re to fail ,
for not even Zeus with all his power could ,
Make my wings go any higher .
and I forgot how to swim like a fish in the sky ,
or even down below .
How foolish to think that I  in such a brief time ,
I could lose my life ,
In a blink of an eye.
A
And so I lost my will to live ,
and death took hold of me with its icey grip ,
so I drifted as if for days ,
deep into my yonder grave.
Far away from the fish I had seen ,
or sunken vessels that were once king of the seas .
Somewhere I didn’t want to be .
Yet in the vastness of the seas above ,
I found nothing here ,
not even love .