O lady o ,
my rides of late hath seemed lonely out there ,
amugst the tall pines ,
the firn and the breeze ,
untill I saw you’re face ,
you brought love to me .

You smiled once as I rode near ,
I waved back ,
you were so dear ,
and if it wasn’t God in all his glory that placed you there ,
was it Satan came to temp me ,
to draw blood from my very sight ?

For I have rode in evenings light past forests as dark as the night ,
through fern and pine tree tall and dark ,
You called me out as a champagne bottle just past me by .
For now I have seen the colours of evening as vast as youre breast ,
you’re turrets are tall and fair ,
you’re battlements of burning  red ,
You’re cannons linstock lit .
You’re hair as black as the Lotus flower ,
which poison fills the air this very hour
and grow in you’re grounds beautiful and rare .

I will blow a kiss to you this night ,
even if the winds that howl ,
let their spirits deceive,
for this night shall you’re turrets will tumble ,
you’re battlements breached without due care
You’re cannons with no flint to fire ,
you’re broken bottle held tight to my chest ,

For this night through firn and flower ,
dainty white carnations shall I pick for you ,
as we ride two by two .

This night I shall ride faster than any knight ,
to chase the sun untill there is no light ,
to gaze upon ,

...
yet you have left,
I lift my eyes to where you stood ,
with a bottle of champagne,
I drink ,
to you my dear ,
My ever ,
Beating,
Heart .

O lady o ,
When I first saw you ,
you’re beauty was it not plucked like a carnation Gods gardens of delight ?
Or had the snake who saw you stand there ,
so to draw blood from my very sight ?
For I have ridden in dark forests by day ,
past pine ,
and firn
for even they could never draw out the love in you’re eyes ,
or the tender way you’re White carnations flew on by .

The sunset with its colours as vast as you’re breast ,
I have awaited every hour of every day ,
and there you are ,
You’re turrets tall and fair  youre  battlements  boast  of ore and steel ,
You’re cannons lit it’s flintlock poised ,

You’re hairs as black as the Lotus flower that gives its scent unto
the night ,
and grows all around you’re turrets so rare .


I will blow a kiss to you this evening ,
for the wind may howl ,
let its spirits deceive ,
this night you’re cannons I shall disarm ,
You’re turrets dismantle ,
you’re battlements besiege.
As for you’re carnations ,
shall I hold tight to my chest ?



For this night our bodies will entwine ,
as the firn and the pine ,
the bark and the yoke ,
to chase the sun ,
past forest glades,
gallop ,
as you hold my thighs ,
together we shall ride ,
Side by side .



This night we shall call our own lost in the pine forest ,
firn and flower .
For are they not dainty ones I shall pick for you this hour .

Then as the last rays of light called it a night ,
and the vast reds in all their array ,
could not stop my tears ,
one white carnation on the ground ,
without a note ,
quite profound ,
an empty space where you once stood ,
lies now a block of wood .

And I still mount thus every night ,
Galloping hopeless in faintest light ,
as faster than any knight ,
to gaze to where you once stood ,
for with thy white carnations must lie
my forever ,
beating ....
heart .
.

This night ,
Pray the sun will not rise ,
for it will  Scorch the skies ,
For when it does you must board up the shutters tight
so there will be no light.,
In thy house this night .

Pray and watch you’re corn in the field ,
so it does not burn.
Pray the wind will be stilled ,
so not to spread so it will yeald .

For the sun ?
For  the sun let it not burn the corn that ,
by Gods good hand feeds this land ..
Next year the rains.may **** the seeds what harvest crown ,
or blight the lands of crop we need ,
to grind the flour to maketh our bread .

And God in his judgement punish all
lest we forgive our sins in the parish hall .
So pray this night the flies eggs don’t hatch ,
they brought the rats that killed the cat ,
that attracts the flies
to the water pump ,
that brought disease and death .

So the sun rose the following day ,
there were no clouds ,
and by midday ,
it hung like a god in the stars .,

Then by the evening sun ,
dark clouds had begun ,
rolling thunder across the meadow,
and the rain splutters and drowns like sins mortal crown,.
rots the ground ,
their seeds lost forever .

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 .

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 ..

Don’t. call me a poet for my words have yet to form .
Don’t you call me a friend for my friendships art like the weather .
Don’t call me kind as my kindness knows you best ,for  the love in you’re eyes knows no rest .

For you’re thoughts are my ruin gin palaces of a decedent death .
My ruin ?
My ruin is to see you’re tears falling like rain drops ,
like thunder clouds in June .

Don’t call me you’re lover for our love cries out in the night ,
a cold venear of beauty and grace,
where darkness finds no light .

Yet here we stand alone ,
together in June .

Oh Lincoln is flooded with you’re tears ,
and I’m put out by you’re fears .

Ballasts. have swept by you in open seas ,
Men held to you’re riggin ,
have been brought to their knees .


And when you said I love you I mounted my horse and
Galloped away .
Call me what you might ,
a King a prince a fool ,
but to love you forever knows no bounds ,
no words ,
no rules .

Where birds once sang in glorious day ,
the Kings Cavelery have silenced when the red leaves fell .
Build the walls to the March of the drum ,
the King is on the run .
A safe haven with musket ball ,
to fire at parlementarian walls ..

You’re quiet havens shall go up in smoke ,
To garrison call ,
each one and all will turn their backs to the roar of burning timber .
you’re chickens and ducks shall be called to arms in the Kings name ,
  to chicken stew and soup .

You’re seats of learning will become palace grounds ,
and all around disease will abound .
You’re young will die ,
they won’t grow old ,
You’re young men with musket will carry , true and bold .

Build the Garrosen defend the walls ,
a musket ball ,
the fuse is lit ,
past the snake ,
through flesh and bone ,
cartelage and intestine ,
Where only maggots wait ,
to infections grisly bait ,
the musket ball .

Oh the trees without leaves ,
In darkness swayed ,
to the groans of soldiers grisley fate .

The King in cowards ruin fled when the moon was a howlin ,
and darkness creeps it’s blood on Godless men ,
who claim in Gods name an earthly rule .

A severed head on hay ,
to the tower it hung to this day ,
a country in ****** ruin .

The red sun blazed like a fire ball though the gloaming just like she said it would   ,
then danced like firelight in the branches as it was ,
It was from this you appeared .

Smoke .
,
smouldering embers choked by flame ,
untill it’s fumes take over ,
smothering.
My ,
Black lungs wheezing gasping for breath .
My body and clothes Linas  perfume  ,
to you’re beautiful aroma I cling .
My hand reaches near so to be warmed by you’re flame ,
and Linas  hand reaches out from the gloaming to touch mine ,
warmly
Inches from the the fire .

From Lilly pads she appeared ,
her white wet dress showing off her shapely body reflected against the flames .


How I had awaited this hour ,
consumed by her perfume,
my lungs burst. ,
Wheezing,
breathless ,
intoxicated by her perfume .
Reaching for each other’s hands ,
her eyes reflecting endless forms of beauty,
we fall to where
the Lilly pads lay ,
down to the waters deep
take us hand in hand we plunged deep into its waters .
The red sun suddenly lets its rays surrender to
it’s. night ,
onto crimson waters where the Lilly pads lay .

Blackbirds  to many to count ,
rendered song ,
Opening blue skies ,
just for so long ,
we looked up one more time to see ,
that our souls lost in Lilly pads lay ,
would softly return to song .
(2019).
Trudy and Marv hand in hand lovers from a distant land ,
heard a blackbird sing ,
she looked down “ the roses are so beautiful here “
She said .

(

The Jester came to see the King one day ,
“these fools are no good they are full of dancing’.

Then the following day a joker came up to the king ,
“; these fools are no good for they are full of laughing .

And we are no good for we sit and moan for the crown we stole
has been a stolen .
The ring we borrowed ,
the knowledge we shared ,
the love we cherished ,
Is as loose as a hang mans noose .

The jester stands on our walls we built ,
just to tell us we are fools .

The joker on our bed laughs tingles his bells as we lay asleeping .
The minstrels have all but left to go a Caroling ,
the love we cherished lies
as empty as the grains of wheat to sodden to eat ,
to sodden to sell .
Christ’s love hangs in art
ripped flesh a truth of love lost
lies in rock umugst our sands .


We head off to the streets with laughter one foot to the right ,
the other to the left ,
the joker stands in the middle .
One foot to the left ,
then to the right
and we all sing lasciviously ,
as the plagues acoming ,
and we go asinging ,
for its. acarolling time ,

and it dos’nt lead to heaven .

For now the wine tastes sweet ,
and the barrels are dry ,,

our heads are kinda dizzy ,
We ***** and puke ,
then **** and poo as we
hung draw and quarter our souls as O
the boils will rise by the morning. The joker jokes ,
the jester sings ,
and we held hands ,
round and round and round we went
and it did not lead to heaven.

#Gals. Come home my dears come home my loves ,
for we will cook you pottage in the morning
and they didn’t end in heaven.

Men reply and we’ll all be dead by the mor ..ning #

And the boils arrived in the morning
and they didn’t. lead to heaven.

Now here lies in a garden a shrine ,
which reads  she.will  be forever mine .
Those words etched in stone still stand in a grave yard alone .

There was a garden where roses.bloomed ,
red  yellow , white ,and pink,
a Lilly pond where Lina would lay to ,
untie her long fair hair in May,
when she heard my herdy Girdy.
“:Won’t you read me a poem she said as the waters danced ,
and rippled to a stone I had thrown with a plomp to the middle .
“ Read  me a tale of you and I as the sun turns red ,”:
and the light finds it’s shade to you’re thoughts are in you’re head .

Here’s a rose wear it my love for I might be here in the morning.”:
“ My love you’re bleeding ,
let me find a bandage dear “
“ l feel faint my love I believe the rose that was picked was of poison! “
Her white dress now stained in blood ,
I held her in my arms as Lina lay dying ,
Her once beating heart turned to white ,
her rosey cheeks turned yellow  ,
how still her lifeless body I held before the night ,
for  now only the water rats would lay in hiding .



And so they built a shrine on a cold slab she lies ,
In her white dress and rose at her side ,
and the fragrance of pink roses .

To this day when the red sun falls into the night I hear her song ,
of love for that night ,
I search for the key lost in time,
to open the door to hear her singing .
“#;For where the Lilly pads lay ,
we shall meet there one day ,
my love “ .#
she sang as the birds were singing .

My sweet does the candelabra lighten up my eyes ?
Or it’s wax soften my heart ?
Does my soft touch see you creep ?
For my beating heart has been exposed,
only to see you turn away as it’s hot wax touches you’re hand .
Was there something in my eye that made you turn away ,
or the blosoming sunlight that just got in the way ?

The ring on you’re finger is it thine ,
or does it belong to some other ruddy swine?
For my love for you is no gawdy affair,
as for the flower i placed in you’re hair was so dainty and rare .

The candelabras light has been exposed by the puff of you’re cheeks ,
It’s wax is long as darkness draws near .

Nee my carriage awaits ,
outside the mansion gates ,
to cliperty clop and whip i leave ,
with an avenue of trees open up before my eyes ,
i turn around and hear you’re cries .

Is It the candles light that haunts you as I look into you’re eyes ?
the softest touch that you see that creeps ?
Is it my smile that you find hard ,then look away ,
or just the blosoming sunlight that just got in the way ?

For the love I have for you is genuine,
not a gawdy fun affair ,
where the flowers to much ? like  the one I left so gently in you’re hair ?
Does the ring on you’re finger belong to thine ,
or some other rotten swine ?
For the smile you had has vanished,
when you’re eyebrows were raised ,
the candles went  out now with a sweet puff of you’re cheeks erased .

For now the wax is long ,
my time has gone ,
my carriage waits ,
Outside the mansion gates .
No sooner the sound of the cloperdy clop ,
and the whips cracked ,
the Avenues of trees I see before my eyes ,
I look back and hear you’re cry .

“ Well there you have it ,
    all suited and booted the outer man
Mr buzz Mr Fuzz ,
catch me if you can ?
I’m the kind of guy you want to meet ,
the kind of man that will lift you off you’re feet .
Have a few jokes ,
give this one a try ,
Is that lady givin me the eye ?
Tall and dark my posture be ,
just waiting for a pretty little thing to bother me .
Here I am quiet table ,
lights are low ,
here she comes
and there I go “


“Now I’m sat here a bumbling wreck ,
afraid to talk ,
sweat running down my neck ,
now there’s jelly in my belly ,
and I’m wondering what’s on the tele ?
What times the train for my journey home ,
Where is the toilet I need a **** .

“ Well that’s been fun and we both agree ,
   I’m not her type ,
  She goes out for a *** ,
and I head to the bar ,
and bring up the courage to talk once more .

This afternoon in the coffee shop ,
after church  ,
a black coffee sprinkle with cinnamon,
drank with ease ,
the Sunday paper on my knee .
I looked up to look around the room ,
a daughter holding her mother’s hand in the corner of the room .
Two lovers looked into each other’s eyes away from their lap tops .
Others just sat there in silence ,
keeping their thoughts to their own .
A cup of coffee milk or black ,sugar or sweetness for their tears .

To my evervesant  dreams of my night ,
my candelabra *** puri skies ,
a barn owls swallows a mouse ,then out of the restlessness of the night,
you came .

The calls of a thrush heard  a. whisper let ,
the Pterosaurs wings take flight ,
we must go ,
Seven sharpened swords loose in the wind to capture the beast ,
as mountains stand ,
and seas are still ,
her wing span ,
her mighty beak ,
Sagas ,
told from Viking lands told of the spell s it haunts this land .
For you my King of Royal blood with seventh sword ,
my King of Love .
With mighty hand you slayed Mosasaurs with one hand .
Now the last Pterosaurs has took to flight

Then my Nobel Queen to darkened skies I must fight .

Over hills and mountains I searched for sun light ,
night turned to everlesant dreams ,
I saw a Pterosaurs once more .

“ You think you’re Queen is safe this night
You think one swift sword will leave me in a pool of blood
I laugh at you’re sorrow for they are misguided and hollow” l

And with these words the Pterosaurs spread it’s wings off
Into the night it flapped it’s wings .

The Pterosaurs formed a nest above a castle on a cleft ,
Our new crowned King who once slayed the Mosasaurs,
on his way to tomorrow’s land to save his Queen now in state reside .
Over that  Castle in their land where. tempers. burnt into a. rabid.  death hollow a darkness crept and would not leave ,
untill the Queen and King made love .

Then all was well and the light returned never to leave when ,
the King and Queen walked hand in hand .

For  God loves the little things ,
our prayers our new tomorrows .

The Pterosaurs when he saw all was well and love reigned once more as
the flowers bloomed ,
the thrush sang
left for evermore .

A rock over looked a castle,
A King and Queen in state ,
a pawn moves and life and death await .

Rain splattered the coffee shop windows,
the suns rays shone before the black dark clouds descended .
A hug ,
a final embrace ,
I wouldn’t ever more see her face ,
her smile when you knew things were bad but somehow didn’t matter .
The rainbow over St Matthews church ,
and sometimes sorrow knows ,
that Rainbows have no end ,
so our friendship can never end .

A new day ,
a poets dream ,
of poetry yet unseen ,
for without a new day ,
there would be no dreams .
For three years ago a paper died ,
and my poems were born out of such misery came .

My love lies on a distant shore ,
taken by a monster I have never seen before .
For my first kiss I would have embraced her love of no sweeter face .
To a kingdom where she is enslaved by the Pterosaurs. .
How could I leave the gal I love to such a fate from up above ?
Why should the cruel sea and their monsters depart my love .
Then I shall go on my ship to sail ,
upon perilous seas ,
wind rain and darkest night ,
with sword in hand defeat the beasts of this land .


What of the monsters that roam the sea when my heart belongs to thee .
The Mosasaurs before me I slay their blood now lies stained on my
chest
Their throats slit by silver sword ,
then spat out with one accord ,
down they go to sickening thud ,
down to shallows thick with mud ,
down to the seas bed that lies beneath,
for to no Mozzie sauras shall I yeald .
My chest I raise with blood stained sword ,
to give thanks to my God and Lord .



I now arrive on tomorrow shore ,
Past the shattered glass no more ,
Past the sunset that was my own ,
and sacred mist that called me home .

There she lies all chained in blood her pumping heart so full of love .
Her captors what beasts of hell ,
With blood red sword so swift to tell .
One by one their wings lie low ,
One by one to sickening thud  they go .
until I stand before my maiden fair ,
her dainty locks ,
her auburn hair .

I picked her up so her feet would not be scorched by the sand ,
placed her on our ship ,
and set sail for
Evermore .

My tomorrows lie on distant shores ,
for when dawn breaks they shatter once more ,
into  a billion pieces of glass .
Every night i watch them turn into a new day ,
every night I’m filled with sorrow .
For like vapour from a distant shore ,
the mornings sun and they are seen no more .

How dare I dream were Vanguards lay ,
and hope they will appear some sunny day ?
How dare the Heracies of the night **** my King in broad day light ,
My rook was taken ,
my Bishop killed and all was left was my Queen
For even Ivanhoe himself how swift a Knight ,
for Saxon kings did he fight ,
could not save the day where my fair maiden lay in mortal wound ,
With broken heart ,
in a land that Pterosaurs prey .

You see I was once caught in a loving embrace ,
about to kiss.my lovers face ,
when one day a Pterosaurs with its mighty beak flew down from the skies and swept her off her feet .
Over the seas of perilous depth ,
through the shattered glass they flew ,
past the vapour that hid the moon ,
past the sun in its golden ray ,
to a land that’s called tomorrow.

My  local Coop is where I shop ,
for Labas Rita’s might or might not be there for me ?
And if she is it’s “ do you have any Kale ,
or tins of tomatoes, mushrooms or soup ?
Her smiling nature ,
her **** smile ,
Is warm in nature before my exterior eye .
Even though this sad tale can only follow as where’s the kale ?
“ Have a nice day “
“;see you soon “
She still drives me Insane ,
there and back to the moon .
“:we have black beans in a tin ,
but not in a sachet,”
so kind and thoughtful were her words one sunny day .

And so as I pack my bags once more it’s “ see you later “
have a nice day “ .
and off I go until the next time ,
It’s Labas Rita’s meets ground hog day .

How must I love you as kind is you’re gaze ,
If not of love I endure you ,
then from heaven above ?
“ Then not out of love out of spite my love ,
for you will grow to something more dear ,
for you I hold in avenues of green ,
you’re sweet virtues were always meant for me “ .

“ Please don’t look at me this way ,
you’re pastel shades will fade away ,
you’re indigo reds will turn to grey ,
and all you’re love will decay some November’s day .

“. Oh l love you with all my colours my love and sing you’re name from roof tops above ,
with the cats that look at mice and then purr to their mistress for milk once more .

“ Then how must I love to such kind a gaze ?
to feel like a mouse in you’re hall of fame ,
for I can never out of spite or love ,
fall for you’re charms ,
for they are not out of love .

“ Then out of lust my dear oh such feeble a frame  ,
for my kind words must not be in vain .”
“:

This fine Sunday morn ,
a pigeon flapped into a tree ,
then straight into my window thud ,
I know this because it now lies in front of me ,
It’s lifeless face ,
It’s wings so still ,
and I’am wondering if it’s really Ill ?
I proded it ,
It did not move an inch ,
so I sat it on my dinner plate ,
and still before me in rigamortis lay ,
It did not move it's tiny head come what may ,

nor flapped it’s wings  upon my dish .
Now my rat pie really should be flying high ,
i think not I should end its life with the faltering sky ,
I know not why ,
it had to die ,
but that bird never moved an inch ?

Somewhere between heaven and earth my dear saviour died for me .
A loaf of bread ,
a cup of wine ,
yet there was no lamb on this table divine .
A cross of wood ,
three. Roman nails ,
Somewhere between this cup I drink ,
and the bread I have eaten lies Christ’s. Love for me.

I need it not ,
I need it so ,
My insolent heart lies as cold within the snow .

A curtain was torn before me ,
the sun as if darkness fell ,
a Roman soldier sank to his knees ,
a mother in sorrow weeps .
Yet somewhere between earth a heaven Satan was crushed with ease

Somewhere between earth and heaven a boat lies  out to sea,
It’s horizon is lost in time,
The stars above it shine ,
a child holds a small rugged cross of wood
It’s splinters lie deep inside his tiny hand .
This ship will drown ,
his mercy’s crowned ,
Somewhere between earth and heaven .

Darling let us dance with the moon above us and sea below ,

for this night is meant for us “ .
man
I’ll take you’re hand ,
a Walt’s we shall dance as if the stars look down ,
and their twinkle mirror mists enchant ,
their heavens array on this moonless night ,
we shall hold each other until Manhattans lights draw near .





Woman ... it’s so cold can you feel it my love
Man ... ‘ there are icicles on deck here you are my love “
Oh stop oh stop throwing them “
Man , you’re such a tease ,
You’re smile ,
You’re face with tender lips to embrace ,
to kiss you ,
and hold the back of you’re tender ,
soft neck .

woman “ I shall hold you this night until the Statue of Liberty we shall see before our eyes on that distant shore ,
and there we shall dine in Manhattans cafes
With only love ,
and kind words to fill our hearts for evermore.

“ woman ‘“. We have danced all night  ,
The lifeboats have but all
gone ,
to the tune of Autumn our souls live ever on ,
nearer my God to thee.
with only God before us ,
as heaven awaits “.
For now my evening dress is wet as ,
there are iceicles around my ******* ,
there lies water all around ,
and I’m frozen .
To you I cling my ,
To you as heaven comes down we dance ,
hand in hand ,
as for this eternal spring .
the moon it’s flares,
and whistle are all in the past .
We plunge ,
ghosts ,
hand in hand ,
down to the oceans dark tombs we surrender.
to angels who guide our way ,
to the strange mists,
and endless horizons that have enchanted this night

Down ,
down.
Four shoes ,
and you’re top hat ,
lie in silt ,
forever ,
with dolls ,
and prams ,
and plates ,
and watch faces ,
where time stands still
on the ocean bed ,
lies our evermore .

.i

How beautiful the sunrise when it came ,
for I had waited so long ,
In vain,
how lonelineses. sweet tears I feel ,
down my cheek so bitter the pain .
Yet I walk were emporers once stood ,


Londiniam lies abandoned .
the Classis lit long since sailed ,
their. Masts beat against the wind .
The  river Thames glistened from the morning sun ,
Past it’s banks and statues of gods ,
Monuments to Caesar and suns of the gods  lie face down in the sun
broken in two ..

Why should I return for there is nothing here ?
And yet ,
the girls with yellow hoods shunned by the graceful good ,
call me back with their come to bed eyes .
and here I am ,
with ladies of wanton jewelled hair .
For now the Tudor warehouses of
Commerce swell what was once forgotten.

Matchsticks piled one on another ,
and look at them all too full of pride ,
to stupid to see .
Women with weasels in their hair ,
So elegant and fair ,
for the ladies in their yellow hoods say “ beware “

Now the suns rays that lie low ,
a ball of red ,
were quiet embers burnt and flowed ,
Only to find that ,

her Queen awaited
the suns rays of majestic glory ,
as if all of England looked to its shores .
her Golden Hind .
Monsters of the deep ,
Dragons ,
Serpents. ,
Demons from hell itself ,
yet
the evil seas could not swollow this ship ,
or return it’s bounty to whence it came ,

and the women with the yellow hoods hid their faces in shame .

This is the tale of the gentleman who wore a trilby hat .
He spoke  Uhum, to himself ,
and muttered things under his breath .
His dress was smart ,
but casual ,
and so the ladies would agree ,
‘What a strange man ,
yet he looks so dapper ,
I wish he would speak to me ‘

Now some of the larger girls grinned and smirked as he went on his merry way ,
he doffed his hat ,
and that was that as he passed them on his way .

He walked home ,
Key in the door ,
‘ hi dear I’m home once more ‘
to no answer came ,
it never did ,
he took off his hat ,
Placed it on a hook on the wall ,
took off his coat ,
and placed it on a coat rack ,
took off his shoes ,
changed into his pjs and slippers ,
and sat down .



His grammar phone played the laughing police man every hour  of every day

It just wouldn’t go away .
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha !
stuck in the groove
Ha ha ha ha ha ha !

Have you heard the tale of Lord  Gusstaff and all the good things he did ?
Did you hear in his chambers ,
or the choristers of the night ,
how he charmed the ladies ,
how they flocked to his side ?
His moustache was long and elegant ,
so dashing for the time .

Now every door was open when he passed by ,
and white flowers of the day were placed where every pritty he lay in the long dark reaches of the night .

For when the birds began to sing ,
their tones  pitch perfect would sing just for him ,
just for Gusstaff. the good .

The ladies pouted like flamingos all around ,
his tales of bravery they listened and were captivated by his stare .
For his eyes were dark ,
his manor took wind to their sail .

How Nobel were his deeds ,
and loving and bold ,
not once were his lovers bitter ,
or cold .


Then one night ,
the bells fell silent ,
and the wind whistled as if in silent prayer ,
a vesper of the night ,
Gusstaff lay dying in a field of war his white shirt stained in blood ,
His dying words how brave ,
how brave ,
Leave a white flower for the ladies ,
to each one ,
I loved
let them place a flower in my grave ,
for where the petunia grows his love still flows ,
and flamingo s still surround them ,
and ladies weep  their hearts forever fountains,
In memorials to Gusstaff the good .

Take heed then as the Fox makes Love in the night ,
Vixens will follow ,
and his ghost still screams out for love.

I always said she had too much coffee and cake ,
her portly shape was due to too much wine ,
and now all she craved was a good time.

I always said the cigars she smoked were like
Tomb stones ,
to blind to notice,
to addicted to care .

I always said ,
I always said .

And her heart only beat to climb the stairs ,
and the chocolate and chips helped her through the day .

Rainbows and demons ,
Chains and weeds ,
and the wind and rain ,
and the rain and the wind found us on our knees .

Spoh koyn nee noh Cheh dorogoy , ( good night my dear ) for
I shall navigate my love under a starry host on my ship of jesters and
Fools .

You’re cigars and cake are the rainbows and demons ,
and chains and weeds to our love ,
For you’re laughter for our foolish freedom came not from God above .

Must I then take the ash and crumbs and the yellow **** you retch ,
and hope what’s left does not choke you .

We shall marry in our Geogian satire of smokin mirrors , gin and Russian roulette ,
I will play the doctor ,
You the patient.
Our babies will smoke cigars from their Georgian prams ,
Wine ,cigars , chocolates and cake I shall spoon feed you ,
.....until you’re dead .


For you’re chains and weeds have killed you ,
and death has taken you away .

And here at our table I shall sit alone ,
thinking of you .
With wine a cigar ,
Chocolate cake and a cigar I shall toast you ,
until this day ,
draw a curtain ,turn off the lights .
Sweet dreams my malen kaya kroshka
( my little crumb )
sweet dreams .

The last fruit and vegetable shop closed today ,
part of Ashford has gone away ,
next door to the church for fifty years ,
Dave and Jim and Brian will never get old .
Vegetables with no cling film ,
or selefane wrapping ,
Mushrooms as large as you’re hand ,
Kale in bundles not sold in plastic bags ,
Plumbs prunes and potatoes.
Peaches apples and pears ,
purple brocole all tied in a bundle ,
all sold in brown paper bags .

The fish man arrived once a week ,
Where from Grimsbys shores we bought . .

The bells rang out on Sundays,
Where at Christmas,
Trees would be bought ,
Lined one by one  .

So tomorrow the supermarket s will becon ,
with their plastic wrapping and plastic bags ,
So spare a thought for the fruit and veg ,
With no plastic wrapping and celefane veg ,
the old shop where the community shed a tear ,
for Ashford’s last fruit and veg ,
has been and left here .

Last night I saw a picture ,
from 1910 ,
yes  I guess they were still there way back then .

My dear , won’t you take my hand and walk in Corn meadows ,where no one can find us .
Won’t sweet tomorrow’s day find it’s way in you’re eyes ,
I will protect you from the noon day sun that burns you’re skin .For one rain drop fell onto you’re nose ,
and yet you laughed when you took my clothes!
Then I in sweet caress ripped off you’re dress .,
Just then another rain drop fell touching you’re breast .
Then you took my hand and danced as one by one each rain drop ,
touched you’re hair.
and another,
then another ,
and soon dark clouds had gathered ,
as we waited for the downpour.
How we wanted the rain to drench us ,
like two bedraggled cats awaiting milk ,
It never came .
There  we were the two of us ,
waiting for the rain ,
that never came.

In dreams I have delighted in you ,
now my heart is found ripped in two ,
by you’re icey stare ,
and olive eyes ,
and sharpened breath from which know no lies .

For the manacles we made were but a monkey in our heads ,
For flowers I must give and on this bridge I wait ,
nothing but bird song and the sounds of the waters below .

The rushing of the wind ,
tbe pale sun dims ,
the evening primrose fades ,
as in memories of you in the twilight ghosts of the fireflies wait ,
for you .
I shall wait until the  darkness clears ,
for many a night I have waited here ,
and though another mans love you pine ,
you’re love will be forever mine .

My blood how it mingles in the cold flowing water ,
for I kept my promise ,
Red waters for red roses ,
and a blood red sunrise ,
When the morning breaks ,
Pritty poses !

Bring me a lantern dear ,
Strike out the fire ,
for my bed awaits me at this late hour .

The curtain is drawn ,
my blanket lies o ,
I rest my weary head ,
and Oft to bed I go .

Awake me in a thousand years ,
Why don’t you ,
and watch over me as I sleep I pray ,
until I awake. .

For as long as I slept the earth froze ,
or cooked ,
or both !
and hell ( they called it that ) men died from its Icey breath ,
        and even they cursed the day they were born .
Vermin rats mice scurried then froze to death as even they found no
relief from its polar vortex .

For babies were left out to die in its falling snow ,
Old men stumbled and fell near their homes ,
of which even they did not see again .

I turned and the earth burnt ,
It’s heat burnt forests and grass land as I slept ,
if the suns rays didn’t then man set woodland alight ,
for the thrill .
Men abandoned their pursuit of recreation and kept indoors ,
Until the heat from the sun had ran its course ,
and the earth found shade in the shadows of its night .

I turned again ,
Fly tippers left their unwanted garbage over farm land ,
at the end of the streets ,
In the country where ever they liked ,
for no one cared ,
Certainly not them .

Silt turned to mud and buried towns and fields ,
and man looked ever on lost in grief ,
or weighing their silver on scales of death .

Creatures of the deep of every kind lied dead from plastic bags and toys of every kind ,
Mattresses.,
Supermarket trolleys dumped .


Cans of fizzy drink were left discarded tossed on beaches .

Migrants sailed from their captive shores on dingy unfit for the sea .
they were swollowed whole by the great waters .
.
I turned again ,
Children wrote obscenity s on walls for their thrill ,
carried knives and stabbed each other ,
for their own gratification.

Then
A man who slept in a doorway awoke to freezing wind ,
a lady bent down with  hot broth to warm his poor heart again .
Children with bags in hand picked up litter ,

And I awoke after a thousand years of wrong ,
the sun cranked the ice on rivers and lakes ,
and the man fell in love with the world again .

Let’s us write poetry together,
if it’s the last thing we ever do ,
to dance until sunrise ,
or at least a final kiss with you .
For now the blackbirds have flown their nests ,
their Young with beaks open are still .

The cacti’s need for water ,
It dos’nt lust for its rains in spring ?
Or finds solace in sand storms the desert brings ?

For loneliness hides the hours when sunlight has finely gone ,
don’t be alarmed by the bells that ring out in the dead of the night ,
their tolls are not for you .

Or the wealthy merchant who counts his coins ,
Or the baker who failed to put out the fire .
Or even the shoals before the fisherman’s net is cast ,
as they find warm shallow waters for their eggs to hatch .

It’s for the Viking long boats who down their masts ,
when the wind drops ,
and the anchor falls ,
for then there finds blood on England’s shores .
for King Johns snipers who’s targets find their mark ,
on peasants who once found game to **** ,
In the dead of winter ,
Suffered still .
This is why the bells ring
but most of all it rings out for our love ,
Lost in it’s winters thrill .

It won’t be long before the blackbirds return ,
their young ones have spread their wings ,

for loneliness reaches out its hand like a ghost in its shallow grave it’s call ,
and for this fame and fortune,
call it what you will must bring .
For I am alone ,
for you’re love meant everything.

Hoist the main sail ,
Climb the mast ,
for my love Ochen Kraseevaya ,
Is on her way back to me at last ,
She jumped ship over stormy seas ,
In her white dress she swims  .
Her ship has floundered ,
her heart has changed ,
now through oceans that swell and rage ,
through currents no woman should endure ,
she swims for her heart belongs to me .

My ship asails it’s main mast abrest ,
I shout out in Gail and rain
“ My Ochen Kraseevaya come back to me ,
    Ochen Kraseevaya.
Ochen.     Kraseevaya  where are you ,
return to me again .“

I rang the bell ,
it’ tolles rang true ,
I set a flare ,
I sent my C Q D ,
Still no answer ,
my Ochen Kraseevayas been lost to the sea .

A blue bird flew as my masts were pulled in I watched it struggle as
It flew ,
and some where at home an orchids flower had died a sad death
at this solom hour ,
for my Ochen Kraseevayas. heart belongs to the sea .

The good ship you,
has flown it’s blue peter ,
hoisted it’s sail ,
Climbed its mast ,
left me as a thing of you’re past .
Last spring you left you’re safe harbour,
when the flowers were all budding ,
and the crocuses had gone  .
You left a note that did not  leave a smile ,
just a pale reflection of what we had not .

Did I not await alone at home for a sign ?
Did I leave imaginary footprints in you’re mind ?
Was I just to unkind ?
And life has stood still it’s outlandish affair ,
I walked in sleet just to remember .
did I really think you didn’t care ?
Now the evenings pass by without a thought ,
Won’t you help me remember?

If the snow returns next winter and the crocuses are dead ,
If I took a leaf from its flower to remember ,
then I would know in you’re heart at least I’m not dead .
But if the snow settles ,
and there isn’t a call ,
then a yellow crocus pettle must perish and fall .

Ghost
Act l
“ The sparrows came
for in their thousands they called ,
In flocks weaving and falling in thick blackened skies
did they fall
they followed me everywhere.”

Woman
“ If I had not been so bold
If I had shed tears and wept at you’re feet ,
If in sorrow I looked into you’re eyes with a heavy heart ,
Spat out what I Could not eat,
It’s seeds formed good out of evil could we not start again ?

If If If we were still friends ?
Now the rains fall on me and darkness decends now
In arragance i seek you for in love I am blind ,
in carnal thoughts love is not kind .

My lover has fled and now eats the  beasts of the field ,
and I am alone in my sorrow ,
with nothing I yeald ,

the sparrows are coming in their thousands array ,
and it’s them I look for at the eve of the day .

From a rib was I formed and now cold and hunger do I live ,
the once blue skies above me are now teaming with rain .
Act ll
Snake
“  Rise up for garlic and herbs I shall give you from you’re sick bed arise  ,
To become like God in the heavens on horses wings you will fly ,
Man will build temples for you to rest you’re feet on tiny wings
no more will you suffer like a god see these things .”
Woman
“I have had temples and statues built in my name
Man bowed down to me like ants ,
given me gold and presious stones and beasts from the field ,
their corpses are scattered in blood on my land .

Act lll
War has come war lords in their anger apose and here am I all
Shrivelled and old ,
the times I met in the garden with God
for the love and the joy and the peace have all gone ..
Actllll
Now in a hole in the ground do I lay
In a bed of  fruit ,
all around me decay ,
beads around my skull my flesh withers and dies ,
how I lived am dammed to these lies


The sparrows are coming to peck at my corpse
In their thousands from the mountains and trees do they call .

For now did snake did I listen ,
and to God do I call .

If I had never met you how sweet the tail ,
the sorrows of love could have kept for another day ?
and no brow of you,re fine face would I have kissed ,
or even embraced .
Or sorrow tell the sunken lips that spoke of my love in anything but
a kiss !
How sweet the tale of another man you embraced and touched as
Only lovers can .
And I have lost you in an orchard dear ,
for the bow you lost was never found here .

The evening now has drawn to a close and the candle light in your,e
boudoir  has not been exposed ,
how long this night alone in my room ,
as I think of you with that buffoon .

Now you know how much I lament the time we met and yet you’re
love wasn’t meant ,
my deepest regret I pray you tell you,r e learned friend that I’m in hell .

The man stands behind the curtain ,
for in silence he stands ,
no body speaks to him .
no one even knows he is there .

The  moon and sun rise ,
then fall ,
for no one even knows he is there .
The birds fly unto their nests as winter chatter brings ,
the  starlings and flinch ***** their tiny wings .
He looks out and the clouds and sun play hide and seek .
Still he says nothing ,
still he won’t speak .
No food or water does he eat or drink ,
no table does he dine with a beautiful lady to pass his time .
And fear not his mood does not tell ,
of the darkness he feels inside his own hell .
There is no light in his house and no one knows ,
that in silence he cry’s for the young and the old .
The clock ticks another day has passed ,
and after many months his beloved walks past .
He smiles .
Then a knock on the door and his heart starts to pump ,
with loving arms they kiss and ****** ,
her flowers hit the floor ,
and the doors slammed shut .

It was a fine Sunday morning in church two bins
one of blessing ,
the other for my sins .
the sins that lay before me to many for me to count ,
my blessings in Christ Jesus like falling stars on a cloudless night .

Now I had never had chocolate before this very morn ,
there it was from the vicars tin handed out .
It tasted not like nothing else I had had before ,



Just like Gods love in Purple robes and thorn ,
just like Gods love sweet in crimson snow .

How the birds at the calling of the day gather their nests ,
and fly away for food ,
yet   even these things don’t bother me .

Did you know the raven and the eagle circled Saxon battle fields ?
The ruddy noon day heat ,
and hover over the soldier with fallen shield .
Now with open wound
Peck ,
and tear and feed .
His sword yet ****** stays embedded in the mud ,
his helmet fallen encased my blood .

For the passing of the years a
  prayer from this mighty warrior to God so he might find rest .
in this battlefield of love .
A monk gives him water and bandages and cares for his head .
These cold stone walls lay waste against the enemy deadly spear ,.
For against the flesh he must conquer against Satan’s evil deeds .
This earth we cannot count for days of short or long ,
Our battle is everywhere ,
So to victory our cry ,
so long .

Did God see the bin I gave to him last Sunday ,
the ******* up paper I now call my heart ?
or Chocolate ! What is that ?
I had never tasted ,
like Gods love divine .
The hopes and dreams of my loneliness  part .
the bitter tears ,
songs of a better tomorrow ones that will open up the sky’s of love ,
to seek Gods grace in his arms above .

Songs of sadness and sorrow that brought dark clouds to my eye .

And oh what a simple poem as this as
the passing of the years go by.
for what was birds would fly to their branches
at the calling of the day ,
and now even they have flown away .

So as the eagle and the raven trailed the Saxon battle fields ,
Like shines metal s that guise and glisten in the suns noon day heat ,
we march wearily on to hear the eagles wing ,
to know the raven hovers near .

Did God see my paper are the wings of the eagle low ?
For now my immortal wound the raven pecks and tears  at my flesh and my helmet to the sodden ground has fallen ,

and  now my sword is now beside ,
does it stand with my foes blood ?
embedded in the mud .

This warfare do I seek rest or my bruised body impale ,
yet God be my protector against Satan’s demon hordes again


Now the Abbey of rest I have found ,
a monk tends my every need ,
Yet my helmet lies upon my head ,
around cold peaceful stone walls do I kneel ,
a stronghold my heart must keep,
vanquished for a time man forgot ,
for the passing of the years .

Have you ever known what it is to follow ,
or what it means to give ?
We live in sheltered housing ,
We live we give ?
Do we ever count the cost and if we did would it add to much ?
Perhaps a smile when buying coffee ,
Or a prayer before lunch ?
or in the evening when I’m drifting off to sleep ,
Just before bed ,
a look in the mirror ,
Just to ensure I’m not ...
dead .

To nothing our sorrows are hidden ,
and it’s only in times of sorrow are our hearts entwined with thee .
For in these times the Crow must return to its stag ,
to pluck and proon ,
to pluck and groom .

For only now the fog can lift and her berries can be picked ,
and Toms daughter with bright bouquet can pick in order
to go a roving in the merry forest for a man that day .

What then if the grave was never entered ?
What if the gates were never shut ?

Or crushed to death by hungry  men ?
For Tom brought a wage that day ,
to the baker to buy bread ,
so no more the rent man would bother ,
no more the poor house pay
No more to beg or borrow for in Gods grace his household lay .

For now Christmas Day Tom didst find tinder for to kindle a flame
so his wife and daughter and Tom to go a hunting that Christmas Day .
a stag on spit they carried home ,
to crackling fire and charring coals .

Salvation Army choirs sang that glad morn .
No more children with swollen bellies with nothing on their feet ,
This morning they found play with
Hopscotch in their streets .
Flung open were the doors this day ,
Flung open with food for all .

Gods light in a lowly stable in some backstreet Roman town shone ,
On a little child ,
small yet mighty ,
Gods plan to save them all .

The Crow out of the earth then took his prey ,
for a serpent in the grass did lay .
With ****** beak with one swoop it took ,
to peerless dawn reached for a new day .

To all  my lovely followers  thank you
and have a blessed Christmas and New year x

From different times of splender our hearts go out to thee ,
in troubled times when the crow returns to it's stag to pluck and proon  ,  and the mornings dew has cast it's spell ,
as if the shades of the berries in the forest have now  all gone ,
and the grave was never entered ,
the church was never built .

How then if when  the gates were never
shut .
not crushed to death by hungry crowds.
and Tom   to dock yards went so he
could buy some bread ,
to feed his wife and child .
The love they felt when they were fed
on this Christmas morning.
As children played
or begged ,
or stole to feed their swollen bellies ,
in slum streets this day ,
a feast didst lay afore them .
Lamb roasted on a spit ,
Tom's door was now flung open ,
No more hunger ,
No more shackles of rent man ,
poor house years ,
then ****** tears shivering in dark infested boxes .
Yet to this day a child was born  into
this poverty ,
to save ,
amidst wise men and donkey.

Then a crow with eager eye picked a snake did wrestle ,
took it away ,
it's beak it's prey ,
rose  to catch the dawn .

For a bud was formed  
not in autumn  
not on June  ,
did it blossom  
but out of hardship did it lay ,
out of a forgotten tommrow .

The phones stopped ringing ,
my mobiles run out of bat ,
and the clock keeps ticking,
tick tick tick Tok .
and as I pull the covers more hours slip away .

The rain won’t stop falling and the winds blowing a gale ,
as I head out to the churches with porch lights ablaze ,

There’s a choir down town ,
its time to come shine ,
for now it’s time to come and sing !

The  lights are all a blazing the trumpets are on tune ,
and the rain just keeps on falling on this sunny afternoon.

Yet all  I’m wishing is all I want ,
and there are beautiful heavenly voices coming from the front .
I’m just standing there with tears in my eyes with ,
mince  pies and samosas cups of coffee and cake ,

and they are all busy chatting so full of love and grace .

The Christmas tree with it’s pritty lights behind the pull pit lies ,
with happy faces all around it handing out samosas and mince pies ,

The doors closes and the roads are all quiet ,
the clock keeps on ticking in my room ,
I turn over ,
Put out my light and all there is ,
Is you

I am the star that shines so bright,
that sends true seekers here tonight .

( to be honest it was given to me so here’s to Chennestone infants .)

To the mourning star of sorrow ,
inside the curtains drawn inside ,
a herse pulls up to weeping the young mans life now in a casket lay ,
With cobwebs to cover his head ,
for now he is dead .

Once bright lights  of stardom with Limosens await ,
starlights fame ,
a spotlight that one day grew dim .For now  death and Christ await ..,
For to much liquor and money ,
to many ladies and ***** ,
and the gypsy he sang captivated my love of solitude .

A ghost book from my grans book case ,
tales of 20,000 leagues under the sea ,
the skull ,
It’s pages I turned what fantasy in this old book I learned .
and so to the gypsy with grinding tale of whips and shacks ,
and a poor boys love for that gypsy girl .

Even now unto this day they play this song it won’t go away ,
In Shepherd’s Bush s music halls to two thousand expecting hordes ,
that song lives ever on .

So what is love only that it must be perused ,
or our lives become catacombs,
and our hearts encased in tombs . .
Our 20,000. Leagues we fall ,
deeper and deeper where there is no love at all ,
just a skull on a shelf to watch it all .
Then save your love for pettles and flowers for above all these things
Gods love towers ,
Wrapped up in Mary’s arms ,
Lies Gods gift of love to man ,
a spralling baby who’s arms stretched out in love ,
this infant child covered in blood it cries .
Like every other in Linon cloth lay ,
that stars and Kings adore .