Oh the silver ships on plastic oceans ,
Marshmello clouds above garbage tips .
and the smell of acrid sewage pouring into rivers deep in slime and filth .

A  can of tin lies abandoned in the road ,
Cars with petrol heads ,
Children lying in their mothers beds ,
Wheeze as plumes of smog rise above their heads .

Mattresses dumped on public land ,
a mother to tired to think ,
Worn out by screaming child who just needs a ***** or a drink ?

And on we go round and round on a merry go round ,
While the earth looks weary on.

And aliens surround us with their knives and mobile phones ,
to scared to walk ,
talk ,
just run .


The hospitals await them still full to the brim with gun law and hate . And on we go ,
to Whales washed up on beaches  
Polar bears drift on sheets of ice,
burning oil fills the sea ,
man lights a cigarette in silence ,
and yes it still bothers me .
Even  so ,


the  earth looks  on in silence .
Turtles and fish eat and die from plastic that swells the Ocean deep .

,Now silence and weeping as floods and bugs enter our summer and winter .
No frost to chill the dawn ,
summer with its beaches full of idol sun lovers who left bags and cans now where have they gone ?
Not to the sea ,
for it is empty ,
not to buy for the shops have all closed .
To their beds they lay dying ,
as the earth looks ever on .
Then with candy floss dreams ,
and fair ground rides stop and sick and ***** we fall ,
One baby ,
One gift was born to save us all .

My ship will flounder on my voyage ,
although it has no sails just tyranny.
as death awaits for me .
And all around is land and no sea ,
except for the reeds that call out for me .
and slowly she moves past shallow wave ,
with one faulse move sent us to our graves .

A space ship hovers above my ship a white saucer without a sound .
Then two creatures that look like men ,
Yet tall and menacing and huge in frame .
all white with darkened brow .
Now I’m in my bed and attacked by something alone I dread .
And so this ends the night ,
and two am strikes i know not how ,
another nightmare awaits somehow ?
and dream a while ,
for sleep awaits the dawn ,
and dreams our fears await .
So sweet dreams tonight you lay ,
for the candy mans never far away ,
on ships to foreign lands .

A child found a book of war ,from hay where her mother and father lay dying .
From page to page she turned ,
each page of sage dripped in blood and gore .
Each page spoke of vengeance’s sharped sword ,
each page of sorrow and death ,
each page of sabered ****** hand .
Call of tyrants from mountains came to fight forever in Odin halls ..
The weavers witch spinned and cut the thread and cursed the land .
and goblets of blood of man slept till nevermore .
Spin spin tales of woe ,
Spin spin the weavers go and blood and goblits forever until
the curse is broken .

Gods poets spoke of love and peace to take the darkness that stalked
the land one bright light to guide them,
so even God in his mighty love might not judge them .

Spin the thread the tales of woe ,
Spin the weavers gold and blood ,


and goblits until the curse is broken .

And the fires burnt and furnise fired for shells of war,
that fed the cannon and muskit .
For King and country ,
For Cromwell’s army ,
to over throw the country .

Spin the thread the tales of woe ,
Spin the weavers gold and blood ,
and goblits ,
until the curse is broken .



Two lovers with beating hearts ,
one left for King and Country.
He looked
into her eyes ,
“;don’t be sad when I have gone for you’re sadness forever take you .

Then over the top to the four winds blown   ,
over the top for King and country .

.” So weep beside the willow tree ,
     for letters of love for me .
For where flowers grow our hearts will go ,
See the flowers they grow
beside you .
and though the trench in death you lay my heart will forever find you for  a telegram man arrived today as i was picking flowers .

The girl closed the book and placed a flower in ,
then danced around a young willow tree for now the curse was broken .

Dance around the willow tree ,
plant a flower of love for me ,
for now the curse is broken.

Afterwards  the fighting has stopped ,
afterwards   the. child   starts crying .
It’s so lonely out there I can feel the rain ,
why do you act so vanity fair ?

I stand on a mountain ,
I stood on a hill ,
but even the Napolionics dark clouds of war had nothing on this .

the sheep that were grazing have fled in it’s gaze ,
and even though my cloak wrapped around me from the chill of the night .
I saw from the north did asail the wind darkness like no other ,
as I felt my bones rattle and shake under my skin .
How i wanted to take hold of my mistress summer and bask in her
warmth for just one more night .
She left without a word nor did her lips empress upon mine ,
nor the soft comforts of late evenings did she impress upon my cheek .
Now I await in trepidation and much distress her sister,
this dark woman of whome pestilence awaits ,
and where storm clouds gather .
This cold wind she sends an advent for what is to come .
Hail snow and rain nothing is like these in her sight .
Don’t look into her eyes ,
the man who peddles time cast under her spell and now he stands alone as time stands still .





Look a white dove how it ***** it’s wings against her blackened skies ,.

for  in its beak lies a fig ,
and on it’s wings Gods eternal promise,.
herolds the dawn .

How I yearn for a warm bed and a clock to while away this hour .
A dream catcher ,
A shape shifter ,
a net above my head ( to catch these things )
and above all ,
bed .
Pray these things don’t steal the light ,
for my eyes to open and see the mornings sun ...
just once more .

How cold now Autumn has arrived who’s stare is still and full of lies
Who’s smile is hollow and masks his face which once was full of love
and grace .
Now Autumns chill has taken his frown and some sad clowns turned it upside down .
Now in his dreams he won’t awake and if he does his life might take.?
There’s nothing left but open doors and rooms so familiar yet never
seen before .
That house when you were a child seemed so small ,
now you walk in corridors never seen before .
Coffee cups biscuits and cake all sat around tables and chairs .Napkins  folded with scowls and grins and awful things .

With acid frowns we stand around and hope one day like NorseViking gods  sail to greener shores and plunder gold behind bolted doors .
As if Mercury has an iron core and either side hides love and war ?
As if water flowed from either side and my heart could draw from
evening tide their echoes live ever on .
And God in his splendid rise banish all these godless lies ,
and i might dream of love again.
Recite Byron , Poe and Keats  to all my friends ,
in gardens with band stands ,
and tea served out of China pots into china cups and saucers .



  So to the one who keeps my heart in a locket on her breast ,
her words I sing when the black ravens call ,
and holds my heart in jest . .
and Autums leaves must they fall it is love that binds them all .

The mornings sun which bright the day with morning clouds have gone away ,
and all that’s left is true and foul of rain that soddens and all but drowns
Sheep once grazing in their fields washed away to tidel yield
Storm clouds that hid the coming blast ,
Callum arrived in dark night clouds ,
thick with black the morning broke to this vale of tears .

These storm clouds that pass above will one day enter our fortress
of love .
The castle I built with moat and gate will one day flood our love to take .
heavy rain clouds from the past will dampen and drown what we
held fast .
It’s morning sun that dews yet crown will turn to sewage in the ground .
Oh morning sun that brightened my day on silver clouds take you away ,
from once green Welsh fields were our love was found away from this sodden heavy ground .
As Callum’s clouds move ever on let us once more hear
the birds morning song ,
You could be my castle dear and we can wipe away our floods of tears .

" Then you shall be my king my love ,
we shall Soar on clouds above .

On dragons wings
with loving hearts ,
above the lake of yesterday,
vanquished with our dragons fire
and our forever beating hearts .



'

If I were a poet would you await my every word ?
Sing a song for me the sweetest I’ve ever heard ?


Would you awake for ,
boil an egg for ,
In the upper reaches of the night ?
To the tingle of my bell to any given hour.?

If I were a poet a thousand tongues would you egnore ,
just to listen to my words would you explore ..to hear  for my name
behind every open door ?






Would you walk with me ,
dance with me as the waves crash over the shore ,
and the moon falls foul of the sun .
or would you swoon as I embraced you’re tender lips on waves that
broke upon the rocks that one day will take .




There might be other ladies  who wait my Poetry with their soft baited breath .

If my words did not rhyme or call love birds from their nests ,
then would you still rest you’re head on my breast ?

Drink  from my skull in the ruins of my castle
my sweet Aberfa

Those craggy cliffs were never meant for you or I ,
yet you slipped and fell from my castle on high .
the sea one stormy night,
the sea my mistress swollowed whole .

Now I await to dance with you again ,
for every night I stand alone ,
come sea monsters foul and dam the gates to eternity prowl ,
there’s no time now my waiting is done ,
the seas have my body and my new life’s begun .

This Autumn sear to fire lights feary glow shall we dance as winters
come,
and go .

The steps to the museum were many ,
as you helped me up the  steps ,
views to every room every living ***** of me .

You bought a program,
you called it art !

one chair in the gallery ,
my heart behind the glass ,
no paintings of fine art on display .
My heart a Spector ,
lies a ghost behind the wall ,
to burn ,
torcher ,
leave on the rack !
only then

and so might it bleed ?

It’s blood flowed down from traitors gate ,
I ate bread, long had it gone stale ,
for you judgements axe hung above me ,
and for once was about to fall .
Deaths daughter her crimson lips  did I touch .

A traitor ? not I .
A herotic maybe ,
for her touch was like no other ,
her words so beautiful your truth I could not see ,
though angels surrounded me with locks and keys ,
their sorrows tell .

Give me a field of bluebells and butterflies ..... and all will be well .

We walked down the steps the doors bolted behind ,
as evening cought the suns light high on chimney tops as
my heart found capture in you’re smile .

Alone the groans of humanity that were once united in love at last. finds its rest .
We wait for a call that never comes ,
and close our eyes in death .


Now the cricket finds its leaf on some Tunisian shores weaves silk
it’s song of love ,
just as
My hand reaches out to yours only for you to flinch and turn from love .
the pebble washed over by the shore  finds itself on ship wrecked Oceans of thee .
Where once lovers walked hand in hand their love like the sands of time exposed .
Like pebbles stolen from the beach where once Greek lovers found  play ,Their. wedding songs bliss ,
hand in hand on moon set tidel bays .

So the twilight casts its gaze ,
Soon my time moves ever on  ,
the midnight flyer i once caught
Only to never find the one .
Love and death have yet to follow me ,
their paths I know not well ,
the sunshine tomorrow’s ring brings sage of old to tell .
Out of these dark ages Saxon roamed ,
Autumn leaves once green in bloom ,
have turned a golden brown only
now to deaths decay .
Their  sorrows winter shall take and find ,

An Ampetheatre of Chicken bones they gorge,
eight thousand demon hoards ,
helmet , belt and sword and my victory is assured .
“ Now set the table honey just mix the salad dear “  
“ Look mother an olive all by itself can I have it please ? ”
“Yes , now wash your hands “
and i was swollowed ,
...whole ..

The steps to the museum are many ,
Won’t you help me up the stairs ?
There’s a program with every item ,
every ***** of me .
Up the steps through the open door ,
how many rooms are here ?

Now a chair stands all alone with no pictures on the wall ,
In the middle of a room ,
my heart lies behind that glass ,
a Spector ,
a ghost behind a wall .

Won’t you see how  this blood runs from traitors gate ,
with
bread that’s long gone stale,
for judgement falls and my axe draws nigh ,
from deaths daughter must I fly ,
her lips are near ,
her crimson touch
not that I should dwell ,
Never a traitor ,



nor a Herotic
not i ,
Should ever be ?

If my head said yes and my heart said no then is there a life for me ?
What foolish thoughts my mind portraid
that were   my very own ,
a complex web unbeknown could that stranger now be ?

The words are so beautiful and their truth no heart can see ,
and yet my heart with holy spirits and angels with keys surrounded me .
How my dreams go back to that same old place  how sweet the’re
sorrows tell ,
of fields of bluebells and butterflies,
and all will be well .

I walk into the sun ,
then the sun hides behind a cloud and my world goes dim ,
no Light my heart has fled to a thousand differant things .

Here I sit ,
My heart on display
a traitor a heretic ? ask my heart not me .

I ,
yes I the traveller have long seeked the moon ,
the stars and the sun ,
often they have slipped my gaze ,
now only a blanket covers my eyes ( blinded by the sun )

Have you met the story teller of the great ‘ I am ‘ ?
of his tales should I tremble ,
in his halls the lost do not seek ,
the sick and poor enter his halls with praise .
For even this Gods patience will one day like sand fall from his blood stained hands onto beaches castles were built  .

Now begone with you for even I must sleep ,
and find comforts no man should wish .
For the monsters of the deep have found me ,
Lust ,pride , bitterness and fear .

Look my jailer comes with chains you can hear that drag down the passage on this dark satanic night .

Sage if you see him tell him what might have been ,
and sorrows only purpose is love .

Are you still there ?
Dam what’s wrong with my eyes ?
I used to visit the fairground ,
Preachers like Wolves used to say ‘ come this way ‘
‘ come that for a shilling , for a crown ‘.

The musics stopped ,
I can’t hear the music and what of the great hall ?
The story teller I must find on this blessed night .

Now a chain mail of Norman men rise in my sea of despair ,
they like skeleton snakes rattle like memories in my head .
Surrender or capture the light ?

Holy Spirit my demons confront me and darken my night ,
for this must end in heaven or hell I bid it the light .

Now just off Fordbridge road lies a wall where Curry plants line up all in a row ,
their scent wafts past the walls and to the Church where like sung melody of coral song can be heardwhere Christ is Lord .

Did you see the robin red ******* capture ?
Did you see how it fluttered it’s tiny wings ?
One moment captured by walls of brick ,
and only an open window found this dear Robins rest .

What Babylon’s we seek .
What red walls we creep ,
Our prisons we like birds fly in to open windows .

Saddam Hussain looked out on Babylon’s ruines from his Palace
of opulent wealth ,

where black angels stalking darkness creep ,
the arrogance of evil lies
the envy of gold .
The night the moons light hid the pagans covered their eyes .
The hand of Gods
writing on the wall .
Wine filled goblets of gold ,pleasure , wealth and power to bestow
a feast of flesh for all .
Cut down with trembling fear ,
cut down as God is near ,
Cut down his arsenal to unfold .

Oh gates of Babylon of who Dio did sing and who’s gates opened wide.
who Alexander the Great
and Babylonian blood  could not hide  ,
the might of the Persian army ,
now lies crumbling in the dust .

Then my dear let no Babylon awake and tremble not that God alone
should take you’re fear .
For our secret love no one may tell ,
when we meet with beating hearts in our curry planted gardens of love .

I ,
yes I the traveller have long seeked the sun ,
moon and the clouds yet they again have slipped my gaze and only
darkness covers my eyes .
The story teller of the great God of  “IAm “ about his tales should I
tremble as I listened with many others in the great hall ,
Speaking of a God who one day even his patience will like sand
drift from his loving blood stained hands .

Begone with you for even i have to sleep and find comforts that no man should seek ,
let alone find , for the monsters of the deep loneliness , bitterness ,
and pride leave me captive in chains .

Sage if you see him tell him what might have been ,
and sorrys only purpose is love.

Please don’t burden me again with you’re story’s of woe my darkness is full of tempting visions and to sleep is to indulge .

What’s wrong with me my eyes are dim when they used to love the light and fair grounds with hymns and songs ,
tales from the book ,
the story tellers I must find and end this Blessed night .

Chain mail of Norman men rise from the river ,
skeletons of my past rattle like snakes in my head .
When in sleep do they arose me and darken my forest in this cold winters night .
Captive only to the light how my soul seeks rest from this
besieged fortress ,
dare I surrender to my foe ?

Holy Spirit freeer of the night thy captors await thee ,
for this tale must end in heaven or hell .
Look again the jailer comes and light once again must set me free .

At least  I would be a poet if not you’re eyes i see ,
Or dance in the twilight when you haven’t given you’re heart to me .

Yet only in darkness do I see you where there is no twinkling fire light ?

The Mail coach approaches don’t let it be late ,
out of the darkness two minutes to wait ,
mail for the court ,
mail for the King ,
the fear of God awaits for those when the carriage runs late ,
for bread and mutton awaits in the morning .


A smile for summer for it has nearly passed,
Oh please don’t judge me for what far tales I tell ,
or if my pen is not swift ?
For the girls in the garden when the roses were in bloom ,
a debt of blood flowed from their veins into the pale light of the moon.
sorrow for a tin of soap .
For in the end in church pews lies ,
can ever cleanse our minds ,
or what we think and do ?

The weary traveller who enquiries at you,re door at night
requires you’re bed ,
and meat soup and broth .
Look,,


the watcher looks ever on ,
casts his lot into the fire ,
scroll after scroll on parchments of peace  ,
day after day.
For all the roses and tins the mail coach waits and waits until ,
It’s too late and our souls find eternal flame cast out into hell .

A smile for summer now Autumn is near and darkness its mistress
Scuttles ever near .
Spare a thought for the silver moon and the light it shines when darkness creeps
on it only light is found it’s silver gown ..
For where truth and love abound man shall fill their buckets and quench its flame ,
and Jesus Christ shall reign again .

I awoke just as the dark clouds gathered above the coffee shop .
Two months without rain had parched the once green grass where
Cows and Bulls once grazed ,
their land now a slave to the clouds shedding even more rain .

Rolling thunder clipped the trees and their branches fell hitting the yellow grass as if the heavens wept for what was about to happen ..

A Falcon swept into my nest and soon my chick had gone .
How many more like tax collectors collecting their dew ,
Yet without them we would fall prey to a far greater evil ,
as to what lies beneath!

On Falcons wings we climb above rocks are left to die ,
to some Falcons nest we lie ,
always for the greater good .

Be thankful for the rain ,
for when it came parched lands were quenched amugst humid skies ,
as darker clouds gathered at four in the afternoon .
The letter I meant to send you lies unopened on my table .

There was no post today ,
no stamp as the post office was closed ,
no rail road to sent by train to sort out ,
No pigeon post as my bird had died that morning in its cage ,
Or telegraph man with heavy burden of death to knock on your door .
My WiFi off line
E mails down ,
My paper plane would not take to flight ,
If I could have walked to your house and mailed it by candel light ,
Or sent a sonet ,
Or a chorister of chamber singers at dusk .
By quil and ink I would have written
‘ I love you ‘

Would could I exchange a peach for my heart fair lady ?
For both are juicy and picked today ?
My heart beats and my peach is ripe and tender is it not
You would tell me ?
Of all the grocers fruit I could have picked did I choose at least one for you no fly had landed just for one second ?
As for my heart did I not rip it out of my chest and serve it to you
rich in the finest Claret  
likened only to a plum ?


Do you remember the warm ,
Beating ***** I gave you when we first met ?
How  it dripped with my blood ,
and you gathered it to your breast.  and said “ now you are mine “

I died that day ,
If I could have given you my lungs I could have told you !
and my ears so you might have listened ?
How  I wished you had ears to hear ?

Please if you read this come quick for I am alone sweeping up in
The potters room for what we tried to Mould  ,
together was always you’re Moore to my Swayze ,
now a ghost to our dreams shattered into a thousand pieces .
Yet if you just say the word ,
just pick up one piece could we not start again ?

Then meet me at the grocer , plum , pear , heart ?

If I  ,
am left alone with the noon days sun and see it rise at dawn and feel
no need to shelter from it’s rays what kind of a fool am I ?
If not for one m this flower has taken water it must.    
surely die ?
Now my coach awaits ,
excuse me gentlemen.
,
How  dark it’s interior ,
I had not noticed before
It is my loneliness that stands before me  ,
the pitch black likened to a stranger who never leaves .
The horses driven by a whip sends them to corners of my mind I have yet to see .

A *** boils over ,
Why I let it simmer ?

To many secrets ,
To many lies in this harbour of fear ?

Look my ship is about to sail ,
It’s masts high to strike the wind ,
Yet in truth it sailed many years ago ,

How I did not notice ?
If I touch ?
and touch you again why do I feel the very need ?
It has to be perfect ,
Yes or no peace will come ,
Will ever come ? .

Don’t go ,
Please don’t leave we have yet to hold hands and see the suns colours paint the sky’s in finest oil ,
Don’t go .
I’m alone even the flys found more company than my solitude .?

And sunken rays that hide my clouds of darkness finds a candle
to you,r all but flickering love .

There once grew a flower on Salisbury plain ,
the wind blew it ,
the rain fed it ,
the snow let it grow again .
The sheep grazed awaiting their Rams .

The sun rises and sets on each day creeping up on the sleeping village ,
Spinning yarns ,
making houses from hay with tea pots and cake ,
Orchards and fields ,
Meadows and hills ,
cards and shootin* party’s till dawn will soon the evening sun take .

Black menacing clouds evil marched forth ,
a war machine ,
winds of a tyrant where jack boots walked in the east of Europe
Stood their ground .

Now to rumbling sound our little flower lay for Tanks would take this flower away ,
it’s sheep sold for M O D land ,
Knocks on doors reasuring smiles .
From War Generals “ you will. be back some day after Gerry has gone away “
Yes off we marched to fight the war for England and St George .
Our houses and land we will return ,
Pictures and letters left of loved ones we will see again .

Go on a journey far away across fields and land ,
Mountains ravines and hills ,
and each cafe and bridge when you return shall seem forever sweet .
For where you sleep there lay wheat and weeds and bird song to greet the day .

The Church bell still rings for this forgotten town ,
Villagers still remember their loss ,
Of Imbers ghosts of peace and love may haunt the ones  ,
Who first said “yes “ and then said “no “.to love .


W

No more neck pain ,
Tooth ache ,
Stumuch ache ,
head ache ,
Heart ache ,
Pain ache ,
Brain ache ,
Cramps ,
Colds ,
Sinus ,
Sorenes,
Norsia ,
Nostrils ,
Tonsils ,
Tinnitus ,
Asthma
Feelings ,
hope  ,
and when hope has gone ,
So has longing , and love ,
and our hearts grow like cold in quick setting cement ,
Now that’s dead !

Hummm,
Hummm,
from your,re sleep if you awake to the sound of rota blades above quiet Ashfords streets .
Oh but you always do ,
and the covers on you’re bed can’t hide .
One thirty every night ,
dead on time ,
yes every night ,
Hummmm,
Hummmm,
then our serenity returns ,
not for five minutes lay ,
Hummm,
Hummm,
This time with rota blades and fog horns ,
“ keep you’re hands held at bay “
You are surrounded walk into the light “
Every night we walk ,
With our children ,
all that lay in the house of abandon
to the light we walk.
On broad shoulders carried our selfish acts ,
Loneliness ,
hatred ,
Pity ,
and plague .

Like Gentlemen and ladies awaiting high teas ,
On luxury Titanic liners with sunset kisses before bed ,
Calm  chilling  rocks await .


funerals pyre ,
Hell opens it’s. gates  where fire and pride burn ,
and music and dance and violins sing .





And those blues and twos that wake you at night ,
from inconsistent blues and light ,
the blackbirds song must wake its dawn chorus break ,
Or back to slumber you must keep ,
Only watch for the Robin it’s perch on concrete cross in darkest night  , sleep tight .

A new day has dawned the sun will rise and fall ,
A new day has left us perhaps shattered and torn ?
A new day was borrowed but not for too long ,
A new day brought us poetry and a song .
A new day gave birth to say hello ,
A new day live only two years ago died so I could say hello ,
Hello hello ,
It’s been two years and my words have become your’s
Hello to many more poetry and song !

You my love while I were asleep appeared to me in a dream ,
You’re walls unbroken ,
unasailed ,
like it had been thousands of years ,
and those years lasted only one night .
If I were ever to open my eyes again you could disappear forever into my mind where only you and you alone ,
and that memory evaporate in a twinkling of you’re eye .
I could search for you then in the deep layers of my dreams ,
perhaps lift from you’re face a mask and not see it crumble to dust before my eyes ,
yet if one spec of   that. dust entered my eye I could I not live with it forever ?

Did I tell you the god of Prociden had watched over our demise and
the apple I chose you with was ridden with worms ?

If I were to gaze upon you in a hundred years from now you would
look the same as the day we first met.

On that day do you remember the note I left in you’re hand .?

You said nothing ,
but knocked sweetly on my door.  to.  Promenade , hand in hand to the water wells we roamed though an avenue of trees ,
you waved you’re fan at me for all the gentry to see ,
how you looked at me in the blossom of your eye never dimmed .

How the waves of the Dardanelles never drowned us ,
how the current raged against our love .

And there you stand walls breached under thousand years of wrong , our trust lies buried under Schliemann’s silt .
Yet  to me our love will always be as mysterious as the raging shores
of Troas ,
as if a gift of grain from a horse could ever rekindle our love ?

Man is evil ,
he stole from the tree ,
he ate from the orchard ,
the apple ,
the plum ,
the pear ripe ,
yet no fruit did it bear .

How he builds to his own Glory ,
Majesty power  .
How resplendent his works on the sea's ,
Andrews designs his workshops in the ghost of Brunel ,
' even God himself could not sink ,      
    this ship '

How proud am I that New Yorks lights may shine bright tonight .'


Faster and faster she sailed burning coal fires roared ,
pitch black smoke they roared ,
like an uncontrollable beast foaming at it's mouth ,
Child and mother and Father did not awake ,
or like cattle with rats left to their fate .

Nothing was spared for the great and the good ,
Oysters ,
French ice cream ,
Cream of Barley ,
Hors Doeuvie ,
Roast Duck and apple sauce .
lumps of ice on deck enter this cold spring dawn that could only bring death .

The wealthy sailed in boats that heard Angels cry ,
dolls and chairs ,
Kitchen pots and plates ,
mothers held their babies as salt waters swell .

Only the moon that night could ever give away it's secrets to it's starry hosts .
Children were tossed into sacks ,
then into nets pulled up into the Carpathias  ***** ,
Women wandered like lost souls looking for the're men as dawn broke so did the reality of their never ending night .


New Yorks lights shone bright that night ,
not for Titanics waters did they part ,
Pier fifty four greeted the survivors to such surprise .
The thousands that gathered with grief and questions in their eyes .
How many dead ? the death toll rise,
to this never ending night until the violin played and fell forever silent to the sea ,
nearer my God ,
yes nearer my God to thee .

All that remained the crashing of each wave ,
the Atlantic Ocean swollowed whole ,

Swollowed whole .

Through grey sky's they cut me down ,
their diggers out of thorn felt ground ,
hundred years I had stood ,
built out of architects visions and plans ,
From beauty I set my eye on you ,
a wandering stranger ,
and wondered how God could have knit anything together as beautiful as you ?
A monument to culture ,
to all that is good ,
yet empty you stand ,
how many years you have stood ,
when all that have learnt from you are all but an Angel carved in stone .
As for those that live ,
oh fond memories they have lost ,
How they have forgotten you .

Look at you now an empty shell ,
and the vandals they came with diggers from hell ,
wealding  their machines until you lay like bricks in the schist.
no memorial for you ,
no facade ,
no folly ,
Just dust .

I turned away I knew I would see you never again ,
but you were never mine just a face in a crowd ,
It all seems like a dream ,
and when my weary head wakes ,
even my memories will fade .
Pigeons will still take rest ,
daisies still grow around you were grave stones lay  .
To no memorial shall lay for you shall be gone ,
like the mirror I held to my grand mothers wardrobe ,
their reflections live ever on .

To When was evil born ?
Not out of God for nothing but love and goodness can come ?
Then from Satan a fallen angel didst not God make ?
Then to what ?
Good and evil must then struggle side by side until God alone
decide the White horse rides and evil finds its emortal decent .

T'was early dawn ,
Hannah awoke to cut branches for a fire ,

Wood for the fire ,
a rabbit to catch ,
logs for the fire must crackle and burn ,
crackle and burn
a crakle and burn ,
a noose ,
a trap .
A kiss ,
Skewered above a fire .
A worm gave birth its shell stuck upon an oak  ,
to nestle its young under Crimson tree ,
and suckle them in Crimson love ,
to protect from Wolf and snare .
then die .
Dogs lay in wait circled near ,
the Wolfs cry how far ?
not far away ,
not far away .
Crakle and burn ,
Crakle and burn .
Not far away the wolves and the dogs circled ready to
feel the crack of you're bones ,ripping of you'r flesh for meat .

A horse and cart drew near to bear much apples and plums ,
Pulled up near the fire to ask most kindly to buy ,
not to be in want ,
to be free from his.Master ,
not to owe a penny .

" Come near Hannah said tell me your woe ,
How a rich man can want anything from a good man as yo ?
Take some meat for from it you must eat "
" How kind pray tell me your name that you should be so kind .?"
Go to the castle ,
Go up the hill ,
take this Gold coin from my pouch for there are no ill .,
now go in haste , don't delay and meet me as the sun must rise
twice in one day "

Hannah waited as tears streamed down her eyes ,
how long she would wait two days was her cry .
Two days and yet would he ever return ?
Was the lamb and the rabbit ,
and the time they had shared ,
the promise he made to return a gibe ?

Hannah would wait about the gate ,
behind her Father lie..
What thoughts of grief filled her heart ,
What thoughts her vibrant cry.

She waited two days at the gate she sang a sonnet sweet ,
so strange the thoughts that linger .
If God in all his glory could leave my beloved for the grave ?
if evil thoughts should he poses to steal his heart from me "

Sunday's Easter dawn at last drew nigh as if Saturday's sky
Knew not why ?
It was as if Lord Monck and Prince Ruperts men's fleet of ships
sailed the high seas and save England's shores again .
As Soon appose my darling love rattle his cart in all but love ,
Into his arms I would but lay as Saturday's dark toil was but
One dark day .
Then as the Sun in all its splendour rose  ,
how sweet the blackbird sang .
Then hand in hand took their pews ,
Hymn books raise to Easter hymns songs of love .

The worm had now dead its shell turned to white ,
Our sin as once was crimson red had now been turned to snow ,
an empty tomb ,
an Angels watch .












"














e

The Suns dead  ,
our spring choked by frost and snow .
Saturday's sun brought with it flakes of white from heavens east wind to cast a white chill over England's fields of green .

Men pumped iron near
the gods in clouds the hour the first flakes fell from the sky's .
For England in all its pomp ,
It's men in white as more snow fell lost in battle again .
Their heads bowed low ,
as for the victor a green crown await .
Over seas to the east Putins nostrils from poison did come ,
Kremlin TV kicking down my door,
better to run than to hear the knock .
For when ice men comes no lock can hold .
England's steels another winters blast.
Black loss shalt cover your fields ,
Shepherds will  not even count their loss .
You will look for your morning in July only to frozen fields shall you
awake .
Pray take the winters chill and kiss this earth in sunshine again ,
that the migrating wheatear and sand Martin plight as insects dead by winters bite .
The Ravens nest now covered in white ,
Cometh the second ice age to plague this land as we wait for summer to come ,
We wait for the Ravens eggs to hatch only then summer might call .

Why are you sad ?
as if time could not travel so I can only see your beauty from afar ?
If time could but hold one moment that's mine ?
We could have danced in supermarket isles ,
walked along Londons streets all paved in gold ,
taken a glimpse of the light as the nights get cold .
Watched Big Ben chime as carts rattled by ,
and the gass lights being lit in the twinkling of your eye .
For the trees have now withered. and the leaves have all gone ,
as the day time comes easy with a bird and her song .
What of you looking so rejected and blue ?
Could a smile on my face ever bother you ?
You could be my King of Queens  ,
We could have laughed until we cried ,
Love could have been our haven without any secrets and lies
,let us.  walk hand in hand listening to sea gulls as the the waves crash into the sand .
Eat fish and chips out of brown paper bags ,
and walk home with our feet in the sand .

Did you know every house needs a. Mouse ?
One day a fine lady with mousy hair and dressed in white ,
With little pink shoes ,
and pritty pink gloves ,
knocked on my door ,
" Would you care for a mouse for you'r beautiful house " ?
with a grin and a smile and a sniff of the air .
" For all the mice will run away when they see this one in marble and clay "
How sweet thought I " For two shillings " said I to keep every mouse
from field and door won't bother me no more " .
as she left a wild flurry of sleet was cast. ,
who would scamper away to the field and the grass ,
a cold wind blew .
An orange the pritty girls sold not for a penny .
To pest houses for the dying a watchman for many ,
a mother held her child for pestelance did wake .

And every mouse that scampered up drain pipes from rivers and streams ,
from underneath old floor boards and along barns and beams .
For miles and miles like a pied piper they ran ,
to see the mouse above fire place lifted on high .
Riding high and mighty this pale horse rode ,
to no houses with a mouse did he find his abode .
Only one day that mouse of clay did dust bin did lay ,
to every mouses. deep dismay ,
the oranges from pritty girls no one would buy ,
the sweet smell of flowers as death walked by .
The mouse lady knocked on yet another door
" you need a mouse for your beautiful house " ?

How long have I waited now ?
How long must I wait ?.
You awoke this morning with the need to sing ,
the air in your tiny lungs burst forth and your only thought
the eggs you hatched .
I witnissed the cloud wither behind the sun ,
yet still you serched for food ax if my table was empty .
And so many rain clouds formed you feasted off bins of trash cans what ever came to mind ?
Did you never look for this bread and wine ?
Do you remember the hail stones how they stung against your face ,
you shivered in the wet lands without a smile I saw your face .
To gruel and trout you ate ,
and grissel when there was no meat ,
and sang as the rain drops fell on your tiny black beak .
Through Ashfords streets you sang above Costa coffee shops and church spires you perched .
Then on Sunday morn when my table was full ,
with other birds you ate like the feast of a dove ,
You chirped some happy chorus sung ,
then past my window,
you flew to the sun .

A noring pain ,
I know so well between my tooth and gum,
did flossing try and many pills to quench this pain did I .
So off I went to see a man in white coat and kindly smile ,
to sit down in my dentists chair to relax and watch the world go by .
" it will have. to come out that there is no doubt the nice man said with a grin .
The sergeon s here have no fear open wide so I can begin .
Now pull he said to his assistant nurse this won't take long at all ,
It's a sergical procedure .
Now spit and swill here's some wool this won't take very long ,
There's a good boy your doing well it's out now ,
all wrapped up in a commemorative box for your mantelpiece above
the fire ,"
" Oh thanks " I said between my gum so raw it should be on a slab .
So home I went all wrapped in cotton wool ,
with blood pouring down ,
and cotton wool biting down such a brave boy I know .

Two days in bed how long I've spent. With a straw and soup and
day time tv ,
It's a sergical procedure they said boy did those words comfort me .
Still I bite  with all my might and tablets and straws at hand ,
Then one day the pain did go no more soup straw and pills ,
Be kind to your dentist ,
Just sit back and relax and open wide next time the dentist shall call

Before me lies what once was red ,
It's beauty before me lies a deeper shade ,
than the blood inside my veins .
For no flower could ever bloom where Icarus fled .

No Cole fires flicker their ember light ,
to where twilight might glow ,
or black kite steal into the night with fire light and my Cole
Of flickering flame .
Into a black Forrest gatoe so dense it needs no light .

Was it by grace or my sin this coal fire spread ?
How could I be more loved ?
Or what if like an earthling I stepped behind the curtain only to burn
In holy fire ?
What lies behind why are men scattered like ants so terrified like worms ?

If Daedalus was right and the sea and oceans with their monsters
Within should consume me ,
and I should fall with feathered wing to meet my fate ,
or get burnt by the sun ?

To one life raft I cling ,
Sprinkled blood ,
as white as snow ,
as pure as water ,
I kneel .
My rose I pick from frozen ground ,
a clap of thunder ,
a shuddering quake ,
a curtain torn in two .

How could my hands with red cells heal and fill my hands with warmth and blood again ?
How could i be even more cherished than this cherry on any iceing cake ?

.

A Question then my beloved friend to when does one first pretend
that defeat is the only answer ,
and to what cost to learned brow defend ?

Now and how it comes at such a cost ,
how daunting to the soul of man to be Victorius in all we say ,
think and do .

What is Victory then I ask ?
A final push over English lines to the sound of Bread of Heavens
heavenly rhymes ?
To look on high to an Eagles cry and wonder why your eating bird seed and you can't fly and cluck cluck s the coolest song in town ?

Or some Medievil battle cry ' all must die ' waving sword on high blood and honor to the King ?

". Oh God is it possible " swooned into Herashios loving arm
In Mertons meadows after two years all at sea ,
Oh God is it possible " Lady Hamiltons cry in Victory of the Nile
did fling herself in Napels harbour .
Then Rule Britania the band played on ,
to Trafalgars cruel fate .



Or is it one more pull ,
One last rep ,
One more curl until fibres spent ?

One piece of cake without the guilt to share on Bulimic bums and minds .

One step from hospital bed ,
to lift a finger ,
to give flight from your last dying breath .

To smile take heart at scolding tongue ?





Never to reach for that bottle when all you need is a drink ,
to pour it down the sink .
To never reach for a needle , a vain , ?
For in a soldiers might his bedside call ,
With book of love and head bowed low awaits his masters call .

Oh blessed sufferer who turns to thee in prayer thy mortal bonds that fetter every single care .
Now the tinker mends ,
How the baker bakes ,
Only to burn his cakes .
Then what of God if all you see are icons of wood and glass ?
Then to dark days go if sofa spend ,
our fragile time must then come to an end ,
and what we touch is real and what we don't  is dead .
Then sleep until death awakes in your Candy castles ,
Sleep until your last breath take .

Oh blessed sufferer who turned to thee in prayer ,
Who faught through carriages of deep dispair ,
Let's Gods love enfold you ,
Cacoon you with his care .

For Butterfly's multicoloured wings to take flight their tiny wings must fight ,
and a Jaguar sinks it's teeth into turtle shell under a moon lite night .
So vultures wings to the soul of man eclipse as demons hatch their
Prey onto lying lips ,
On tender hooks the soul of man ,
Only for light to awake and so demons turn to dust

Oh the blessed sufferer who turns to thee in prayer ,
the mortal bonds that fetter every single care  .
The tinker mends ,
a potter makes ,
a baker bakes then eats his cakes ,
But what of God if all we see are icons on stone and glass ,
And to suffering go ,
to sofa spend ,
our fragile time comes to an end .
We never looked past our sufferings to differant worlds far beyond
this mortal coil ?
For what we touch is real ,
and what we can't is dead ,
and fairy tales on silver castles are nothing more than beautiful dreams .
Then sleep until death awakes you ,
Sleep until you have no breath ,
For those who seek shall find ,
for only if your heart will take .

Oh blessed sufferer who turned to God in prayer ,
who fought through carriages of doubt and dispair ,
his arms enfold encapsulate you without a single care .
For butterfly's to take flight on multicoloured wings must fight ,
as a Jaguar sinks its claws into turtle shell under a full moon ,
So  to cruelty take .
So don't let darkness enfold you ,
It's web entice .
For in the dark demons dance ,
and it's all man can see ,
dazzled by its twinkling night ,
for in light they turn to dust .

Hello p

". Come with me , come come ". ( giggle )
Her hand stretched out , it ' l. be fun , !  

My heart is now encased on my mantelpiece next to a fetching
Red rose .
How pritty in bloom ,
Yet cut from its roots does it not perish and die ?
Like the soul of man were starved of love would it not like a flower
In a vase but cut off from its maker . ?
For in life how fleeting is breath ,
for God has taken to find eternal rest .
A ticking of a clock ,
the hour hand passes twelve. for if we fear time what s. Left is only
the absence of light .

My hearts on my mantelpiece  I left it there it's so full of pride .
I left it there as it was full of love and beauty ,
and full of patience and kindness .

Yet I raced in speeding cars through burger bars  ,
swigged Champagne and snorted ******* ,
Caught a rail road train half way to paradise .

Now my hearts dying and my love has grown cold .

The telegram man on his Nobel steed stand before me ,
with his letter of death ,
My condemned dammed soul if that letter I take in driving bitter rain.

What hope have I that I should ever die to gain nothing better than
This ?
........

Another Telegram man appeared on a mountain far away
a ray of light that caught my eye on that mountain far away ,
Where green fields and water ran like steams of living gold ,
and I saw a broken heart ,
and a ****** cross ,
and bracken  a steep hill and a long rugged road
and a hand so scared from a Roman nail stretched out with a staff ,
and a beautiful heart .
" Follow me "

When I was born man sent rockets into space ,
Castros missiles pointed war heads ,
yes Pigs of War gathered like none before .
Screaming I came into this dark world ,
yet craved nothing but my mothers milk ,

Then Winter came .
But foulest ice ,
and snow stopped trucks in their tracks ,
Milkmans will did break .
For wind and hale could never stop me or my will forsake .
Yet how the Cheve Impala roar ,
found her picking sea shells from a tropical islands sandy Shaw .
A Galaxy of moon rivers could ever temp me to walk away
from its ever fading moon light night .
How I found this darkness like a worm finds its rest ,
How this slab of mine turned over again and again.

If only I had seen Brasil dance through Italian defences ,
Sons of Welsh miners ' Edwards to Williams he must score '
Claim the triple crown .
As is Gypsy was penned for Zurichs smoke filled concert halls ,
Santana's Latin rhythms light up Woodstocks samba party .
Or two lovers in each other's arms after war had ended.

Only my rose is no longer red ,
for no one does its petels bleed ,
and my hand is so numb with pain .
For my rose lies fallen in the snow ,
and other feet have vainly passed over ,
Worst of all
I feel l have lost your love .

Hannah stood beside an old oak tree besides a clearing in the wood ,
beneath the ground her Father laid to rest ,
a cross of wood where Hannah's Father stood ,
gathering berries with his daughter in the wood .
To gay abandon they roamed ,
Until dusk caught its evening light ,
and dark clouds stole their evening light .
Berries for bed ,
Hannah's pale cheeks turned to ruby red ,
for the tears she shed .
Where once Hannah's eye would catch some tall dark strangers eye ,
to fleeting wonder strayed ,
now even thoughts for supper lay waste for another day.

Yet from some branch from high above a blackbird sang some sweet
Sonnit of peace ,
that for a moment found its flickering embers of love .
A shawl wrapped up against the cold ,
feet frozen from hard unforgiving ground .

The crow lay dead. behind that tree where Hannah vainly stood ,
In hollow ground underneath  rotting leaves and pieces of wood .
Where snow fell ,
What tales its wings harbored,
to an apple with one bite ,
To an infant child wrapped in holy light ,
To the torcher of a cross ,
To an empty grave ,
To the Glory of Heavens eternal light .

Hannah picked an apple from the wood ,
and cut down a tree ,
Dragged it to her cottage for it was The Christmas Eve .
Red ribbons for her Father ,
Apples to decorate her tree ,
For a woman once ate an apple ,
It is said .

is now departing Waterloo please stand clear of the doors.'
Past Vauxhall , Queens town it rattles ,
Past ruins of mans grandure ,
Greek Theatres. Of Greek gods
Amphitheatres of Rome ,
Grand stair cases where Titanics. Good walked down ,
arm in arm to tea with Captain Smith .

Where Napolian crowned himself  , Empeorer ,
Placed a crown upon his head at Notra Dame is said .
A Kaiser rode with noble steed through Jeruselems ancient walls ,
he built an arch so all could see how grand ,
how great he was to all.
And we dream like kings , have manic dreams
and build monuments like pyramids in the sky.
Yet butterfly's can't hold them ,
Neither flys ,
Or mice or rats scurry by .
They crawl where man can't find them ,
Yet are there when they fall ,
and sickness and death shall take them,
and where insects crawl ,
Our bodies decay  ,
where sheep and goats don't mix ,
Shifted like  sands of time ,
To green fields or fire ,
by the great Shepheard King Jesus ,
Who died to save us all.

Winter as cold as the frozen night and bitter winds draw nigh ,
and fairy lights ,
and fir trees are cut down and hung .
Forest lamps ,
Elves and fairys dance in the pale moon light ,
and man with spears and nets ,
and burning wood to find Oxon ,
Deer , and fowl to hunt ,
**** ,
And hang  before the snow takes the night .
Wine will flow ,
Camp fires lite ,
They dance around the fire .
They feast ,
Gorge on meat until their stumuchs are full .
Their meat turns to rotten ,
Their ale to vinegar
Their bellys sick with too much wine ,
The fire light ,
The fairys have gone ,
the embers of the flame grow dim and die .

A beam shines from heaven like a light out of the black ,
Isiah bent down to gather some wood ,
To kindle a flame ,
thou man cuss and spit ,
Shall never grow dim ,
and die .

An open canvas ,
holds a white blank page ,
the poet sits in silence ,
his mind full of fanciful thoughts of dreams .
We visit gallery's in our mind as vast and grand as any oil on canvas , and construct words as majestic as any William Turner or Greig .
The sun rises ,
The sun sets ,
Waves crash and fall ,
the tide comes in ,
the tide goes out ,

our pens and hearts arise and set with each one,
The dawn and fall of another day .  


The moon shines down in part and in full ,
and we dream of a man and wish he could not tell ,
of broken minds ,
and misspelt words
empty rooms  ,
and coffee cups ,
that a flick of a bristle could not erase ,

and we sit back and wonder if our words don't rhyme ?
And all the time our minds must dash to flashes and images we
have not seen in a thousand dreams .
nor set a table and chair and invite them in .
For when fantasy rhymes our hearts entwine and ink must flow forever ,
and when they do it's just like dark chocolate porrage
Or a thanks from a friend who's fence she mended to see you .

that smile she gave ,
That laugh you cought ,
The dinner she cooked ,
Her beating heart when all was still
Her hand in yours that said I love you .

And in all these ways  ,
Paul saw in awe ,
Before the dawn of time ,
God said you are mine '.
The
 poet sat back in his chair and read his words ,
With candle wick low and ready to bed down
For the night his words lived on ,
Until all had gone ,
and there was no light ,
But dreams ,
and our minds ,
don't stop .

If I were a poet I would walk in fields of green ,
hand in hand with my fair maiden. amugst
Crows I had not yet seen .
If I were a poet  by pillow sky's of blue ,
You would walk beside me hand in hand ,
by a pebbled running stream ,
and as dawn broke walk barefoot along side hills I'd never been ,.
Then the bright morning star would be on some distant planet far away ,
Unable to temp ,
and take this blessed peace away .
For as Christ in all his glory Witnissed  Satan fall like a bolt out
Of a firmament so poetic only a canvas on grey and black would do .




As if poetry were like apples only a red or green to pick ,
Ripe and juicy ,
Yet rotten and so sweet .
.
with tables set before me one with a bowl of fruit below ******
Sky ,
the other bread and wine  set before me under this benevalant Welkin vault .
One of poison ,
One of love ,
And so to grey sky's  and bitter winds I awake ,
under black ice I fall ,
But this way may not be paved with gold ,
Or ladies sweet perfume ,
But poetry and Gods wisdom in Jesus love on a cold Autumble afternoon ..

They stand outside Costa coffee shops ,
and line the street with coffees in hand  
one a year to marching band ,
this proud land ,
With wreath to place to mark the place ,
Where an Angel was carved in stone .
From blood red fields to Ashfords greens ,
a village with cart and horse ,
And three churches built to honor God that still cry out for thee .
As time has passed not much has changed ,
We still remember our dead ,
With marching bands ,
and silence .

Is this war that  nation should rise against nation for one plot of
Land ?
Or demons should call on man from Satans rebelius throne
and temp the lonely in solitude to such ,
and for man to call on Gods holy army's to unite against
this sin ,
Flesh ,
and the devil ?
Or is it two lovers who go to war ,
with a ring and a kiss ,
and dreams of Marrage ,
Only for him to be blown sky high ,
and their hearts and ***** embrace no more .
In Afganistan ,
the taliban ,
An open grave ,
For what ?
A holy war ,
A misguided evil ,
A sack cloth of sin .
For just as two little boys with only one toy ,
Should sqobble and fight and cry ,
a dark truth must remain ,
That man is flawed ,
and prone to evil so cancarus. the sin .

For just as moon shine is its glory ,
Hell awaits .

For just as guns are for killing ,
A widow waits ,

And for every shelling and morta bomb ,
a church bell tolls .

But the fig tree shall bloom in summer  
and seas crash upon its shore ,
And men shall return from fighting ,
Pick up their guns no more ,
And lovers walk hand in hand on sandy beach and shale .
Not a bitter word between them ,
Draw love hearts in the sand .

A crow did to blackened. Sky's Persue ,
one Crimson thought  in paradise tell .
and flew away past my window without a thought for me .

A sparrow found its rest on a stag at Bushy park ,
as many followed still would not give its heart to me .

And lurid sky's of Ophelia behind a shrouded sun ,
Looked down on Churchills statue .
Who himself a tear did pass as the Crystal Palace To clouded wreath filled. heavens ,
Where glass and iron met with crackling and bangs and billowing smoke
belong, before the Luftwaffe would ever darken England's skys. Of blue .
And so it's Ash from Forign fields and deserts belong ,
To land in England's pasture and turned our sky's to orange and
Red , .
And in those crystal hues. deny to wake in your dreams ,
Or leave a key in your door you had never forgotten before ,
Or go to a shop and wonder why you went ?
Or leave your brolly on the train as you come in from the rain ,?
For in your dreams a train may wait ,
inside. a staircase with white washed lime walls , a Theatre where your greatest performance
Awaits .







.

The gardener once knelt down to rub two sticks together ,
he watched the flames crackle ,
and warmed his hands against its embers. glow , .
More wood would be needed to burn this dead brach vine ,
That never bore its name.
thick black smoke enough to choke a man bellowed. from its. being ,
A vine pruned only to leave a stone cold sodden heart .
So thick the smoke it brought a tear Unto my very eye ,
So black my sin a sickle or reaper could not save ,
this fickle branch from its flame.
For what is dead is not for the harvest and must be cast into the
fire ,
And what is worth keeping pruned back for a flower to reign .
For what is a man who has no peace ,
Or joy in sorrow ,
Or patience with his friends . ?
If love cometh from Friendship and in that love there is no
Sorrow or pain .
Or trust , or even faith to light the way .
A couple held hands in Church ,
Not bothered by the flame that burns deep ,
Pruning their lives so sin can't cast its. Stain .
And can it be then ,
That I. a sinner trust ,
In a gardener that prunes and tears all
My dead branches down to dust ,  
Thrown into a flame
That ,
On a hill ,
On a cross ,
This flower might bud ,
and it's. beauty forever remain .

When. Summer.s. evenings. fall. ,
And leaves. Of. Green turn to gold ,
and fires. In haths are stoked ,
and the sun gets lazy , .
Darkness steals its. Light .
Then  The churches are full ,
and each voice sings herolds. Winter and gusts. Of hale . ,
In hymns of thankfulness to God for a harvest .
Tins piled high for those in need are never to be forgotten .
A sermon on stones and seeds and chaff blown by the wind ,
Only then
The harvester will call .
Ring the bell
When in your beds ,
Or walking home
On rocky soil  don't. stay ,
For in  the spring we dance and forget we sow out seeds for  another day
For on stones like chaff ,
Lay seeds on rocks ,
and gravel get blown away .
by hale and gale ,
Wind and rain
Like time will pass.
And what was lost ,
Can never be gathered
When the harvester draws near.

With seven thousand on each side ,
No man or beast would be spared or butchered alive ,
On England's. green yet ****** field ,
Harold's  soldiers. Would not yeald .
Men standing with corpse still shield to shield , no room to fall into
Fields of blood ,
Williams men yet told the cry ' our King is dead ' so fooled the lie ,
the Saxon hordes. Many advanced , the cry
Harold's. Men butchered like dogs,
Picked out one by one the English line broken ,
And Arrows fair filled the sky's to no man to shield defend ,
Harold's men fell like flys ,
And England's crown alas to foreign field ,
Conquered by Nobel steed ,
and cunning plan .
Now this is not a tale of woe for to foreign field England's lands
did toil ,
But a fairy tale of love .
Actin passed its  dark Saxon foe to boldly go to my miosin ,
And feel the pump inside ,
Again and again they meet tearing fibres as they dance
and proteins and sleep keep the Saxons away,
To shred ,
and bulk ,
and feed this land .
Like every day when dawn will call ,
Run with the foxes ,
hear the call ,
Break down those dark Saxon walls ,
Seven thousand armed with ****** axe ,
But you have actin and Miosin spitting blood for you .
Twenty strong reps ,
And curl and curl ,
There's iron in your blood ,
For those Saxon walls each day must break ,
Pick up your sword each dawn shall take .