Just for a moment imagine .
Just for a second ,
no , just for a day..

Just for a thought if for thirty minutes we were of one cell .
What if with one pill and water that life could then vanish and die ?

What if that cell could then become two ,
then out of it ,
Two arms ,
Two legs ,
tiny fingers ,
Tiny thumbs ,
Tiny hands ,
and toes  .
and a little head .
What if that head developed a mind of its own ,
and a consciousness.of its own ,
It's first cry for its mothers milk ,
It would be like a bird breaks forth into song ,
for one piece of bread ,
as the day breaks and clouds move forth to let a rising sun shine as if
for the first time ,
This cradle of life ,
Will one day learn to write , and it's words and thoughts provoke ,
from one cell unite
Just to be alive .

There was a picture house where Mamgu and Dadcu first met ,
beside a swirling brook ,
Where an ice cream girl met a charming man with a smile
at the interval of the days picture show  

In a time gone by with no internet , snap chat or Twitter .
Just polite conversation ,
Just a peck upon a cheek ,
And all that's left is  a bridge underneath waters still roll ,
a quiet stream ,
Where waters flow  beside green pastures and hills .
And a chapel not far away where Mamgu and Dadcu where
Married ,where  my Mother and Farther tied their knot fifty seven years ago .
And it all began with a smile and an ice cream in the Capital
Picture show ,so many years ago .  .

So. Who made you Lord of this manor that your tables and chairs
be dumped at the end of my road ?
That every mattress you find may be handed down ,
From your lorry , car , van ,
and dumped at the end of my street .
Who made you king of your hill ,
So to trash my neighbor hood with tv s. no charity wants ,
With sacks of books and little girls toys.
Left out for cats and dogs . .

What makes you think for a while,
All that money to the council will go ,
To pick up your sofas and boxes down the end of my road .
Please don't leave your sofas
It's not hard to understand,
It's selfish , cruel , and heartless ,
a blight on this once great land ,
With tables books and chairs .


You gods of your own small world ,
Who trash and burn how you please ,
Like nothing can ever touch you ,
You damage make waste our land,
When once was neat and tidy ,
I was proud to call this home ,
And Charity's pick up the tab .
What a selfish thing to do .

,

Today I welcomed the traveller in ,
Without a smile or humble grin.
Without thought or even time it sat
Upon this heart of mine .
And as time went by it stayed a while for tea and cake ,

One day time knocked on my door and with it the traveller returned , and days turned into years ,
And still they ate with tea and cake .

Then when it was time to leave ,
a memory would come ,
With a tear ,
Then a smile ,
and I let it stay a while .
The traveller will always be welcome ,
and time no hostage can hold .
So keep your thoughts and cherish
One day they might turn to gold .

Mans wings on emortal things canst only perish .
For if love were of man it might flicker and die ,
Like a tinder box flame with no oxygen ,
no heat or smouldering Cole could ever give life to this ice , cold ,
Frozen heart .
And where does such sweet parting meet ?
And sorrowful love must end ?
Does it depart , or stay a while my friend ?
Or is love of such sorrow born eternal ,
and if so Blessed by God himself ?
Then feelings and passions rage of which I know not .
Only to love and not be loved with flowers and kisses ,
and romantic candel light moons .
What if love was more ?
To give up the ghost on a friendship or so lament my heart with sorrow
To the kid who s. Mother shunned the gun ,
Bought a guitar and strumed for fun ,
Played sweet songs for Dixie ,
And what that boy heard on the hill only drew him
To the mean streets of Memphis
and the blues came a calling.

' I don't sound like anyone here ' in 54 ,
In the blazin Memphis heat
Came from which rock was born ,
a song for a dime , to play to his mama .

And the ladies went wild ,
and the kid from the shack ,
With a guitar on his back ,
With a swing of his hips ,
and a curl of his lip ,
Bought a house for his Ma'am ,
then money and wealth ,
Took away his health ,
An empty lonely house without Pricilla .
For love that's born of man must perish and die ,
Alone without a flicker .
And three cruel nails ,
To Christ empailed on a tree is proof enough for me ,
that Gods love is eternal.

From worn out sheets and pillow dreams sleep can never hold the dreamer. For
even now the Sun has yet to rise at four in the morning .
the town halls. Clock still shrouded by the absence of light ,
and the rain like pellets brought only a soreness to my eyes ,

yet brought a youthful. exuberance to my legs not felt in months .
For what was once dawn at five in the morn has still to rise in August.
And Wicked. Schemes of medieval dreams of a tyrant King for a loaf of bread a monk and a toad and a goblet of gold could ever keep this ball of fire from rising .
No more than '. Twenty shillings for a loaf of bread for what was once half a penny .
a monk drank to his death of the **** drained from the skin of a toad for many.
andKing would die , but not from its poison .
How Tudor halls when evening falls bolt their doors from it .
It hides the light which once shone bright ,
and pray the sun will rise .
As evil waits outside its gates only theifs and drunkards Persue .
A preachers bench where a dead weight is clenched ,
Gods word from man has no where to hide
as preachers. On Sunday mornings tell ,
Food for the lost at what great cost every soul that listens well .
So as evening shadows draw near .
and cold winds ,
and darker skies. can only beckon .
And evening shadows fall ,
and TV takeaway awaits ,
a light from church's may yet be ready
To. Welcome the weary traveller home .

A fly flew out of my window,
What a silly thing to do .
Driven insaine by the noon day heat ,
Out to blue sky's flew,
Out to relentles noon days sun .

A fly flew from my window no longer inprisoned in my room ,
To wandering sky's it travelled ,
to flame filled sky's belonged .

As evenings Suns. On Grenfell towers fell the night before the fire
like heavens stars shone in grace .

A fly flew out my window to blackened sky inflamed ,
and dark clouds circled all around in soot and fire and pain .

For in morning time Christs loving arms to the lost would embrace ,
and those below kept searching for loved ones to hug and hold

For our body's are no more than cheap disposable takeaway containers with unseen riches untold.
To every Christ believer city's await paved with Gold .


A ghostly shell of hell on earth stands tall above Kensingtons
Well to do ,
Empty houses ,
With empty rooms ,
Stand idle whilst homeless walk in streets of gold without a
Flamin clue .
Oh the many that gathered brought food love and drink .

The forgotten rose with banners Held high with anger in their hearts , to City hall with flame and sword justice for their dead .

A fly flew out of my window to hollow sky's of grey ,
To rainbows all around a beam of light struck its tiny wing ,
to charred timber it rested ,
On what was once a home ,
A fly flew from what was once a window
to blue sky's above .

The sun found its evening rest in the courts of God above .







...

I. awoke to crest fallen clouds so heavy with water ,
and wind as wild as what was left in my heart .
Intrepid it was not .
Fearful of God it had become ,
Starved of joy ,
Peace ,
For if a man is left to starve he must go hungry and thirst for food ,
For it is all he can think of .
If a man cannot find water he must thirst .
If a soul finds God and does not find rest in his word ,
and looks for it not ,
Then his fields and trees may wither ,
What was once beautiful become ugly and dry .
I stood on a mountain ,
I stand on a hill ,
With other boys beside me
the Kite master stood still .
With a Kite he stood ,
With grey sky's above ,
and released that Kite to soar above .
Thick dense clouds it soared past thicket , trees and woods .
I watched as the bird flew out of view .
The masters call
, is the faith to know ,

I stood there waiting ...

Once where serindipidy stood ,
Somewhere between luck and chance dance ,
and fortune lights up a toast to all above ,
the Kite turned back ,
Spread its wings for home .
with Faith ,
Hope and love it spread its wings .
It's master called once again

For the flies you swotted when you were young
now reside in peerless sky's ,
in The Concert halls of God
Playing Jesu joy of mans desiring .
on miniature grand pianos ,
In honor of their creator .

So pray ,
and seek ,
For I saw that Kite many hours in flight ,
as the evenings Sun sank ,
and darkened clouds asailed. It not ,
The kite in evening shadow returned ,
And even if all my friends had gone ,
The Kite masters call  ,
how long the wait
It's never to late ,
And Christ is Lord of  all ,
to the Glory of God the Father .

On London Bridge to harrowing sound ,
Of. Ambulances  sirens all around ,
and terror strikes at Londons cosmapoliton night .
Another day break ,
another dawn ,
another ****** morn .
I awoke .
The R S P C A shop left outside bags with rags and books ,
and children's toys for girls and boys ,
Open to wind and rain soon strewn accross the pavement .


Left against a wall ,
And those that leave them drive away unable to read .
To blind to see in the name of charity ,
at the end of my road ,
Fly tippers leave bags tables and chairs .
Or those who smoke outside coffee shops with espresso
and cigarette buts and chat for hours on Sunday morning streets .
Or Alex who sold the Big Issue last week ,
Who returned home as his nephew had died ,
Who won't be back soon .
And to those who pass by and don't bother to buy .
Or stay for chat ,
Or bother to ask

How are you?
Outside the coop supermarket .
Near by
And what once stood proud ,
Now pigeon finds its nest and once where table and chair  
To learned children would sit stands **** and birds nest .
Then vandals came and bid it to shame to disrepair
They left it .
Ashfords  history left to rot   .
Mad politicians the bulldozers came ,
a crazy plan left to ruin .
What The Luftwaffer failed ,
The council with Bulldozer nailed ,
Brought crashing down in ruin .

Around the corner. The church was packed with freedom songs
Inside .
To God be the Glory .
Last night the ends of the earth came to London Bridge , to Borough market evil came .
When we should go to the ends of the earth to save the Godless from hell , and
As darkness fell and young hearts beat so full of love ,
One last time
One love.

There's a flower girl in Manchester who's heart pored out in love ,
Sings in defiance ,
and after all applause has passed ,
Through tears of love so sang that sweet ever song of Sally .
And those around yet in their grief ,
and somber tone made it so she did not sing alone ,
' Sing louder '
Came a cry and many more joined in .
As helium balloons flapped in the wind ,
And Suns Ray cast its warm reflection into eyes so full of loss
the Manchester flower girl song unbroken .
Her soul slides away '
And nails implanted in the young and the dying ,
In an act of human kindness  a homeless. Man bent ,
took out the nails beside them ,
and ministered in word and deed to the bleeding .
They opened their doors to strangers,
away from the danger taxi cabs came rescued the lame ,
out of harms way .

Oh potters crown.
To shape and mould
as if man were a slab of clay ,
a crown of thorns to suffering go ,
defeated evil on a tree .

A morning star of purest light ,
Weep for those who shined so bright ,
With mirth their lives cut short .
Tattoo a bee for me so i may never stand silent ,
Broken .
Just one last time ,
Just for You to remind me ,
There really is something about you X

Dear reader have you ever wondered where the bogey man lives ?
In the hall
Under the bed
In your head ?
Well when I was small  , a sleeper train ,
to Scotland in the cupboard  as I lay awake that night ,
through rattle and hum , clunkerty clack of that rail road track .
The over night sleeper to Scotland
Then from the cover of a paper back book  ,
Came
Paper face .

Have you ever wondered of Mr Barney ?
Who when rent was due would call on you ,
and in return ask for your daughters hand in Marrage ?
To the little pigs he would go ,
With a huff and a puff ,
eat pork for tea.
beside you

Or the toy maker ,
If half an our late would make you stay late ,
and doc your pay for talking .

Or little bow peep who lost her sheep ,
Only to marry Tom Thumb only when her good friends had found them .
Now the bogey man rings and rings in my little toy town ,
and when I pick it up goes zzzzzzz.
Just a few questions today ,
I am sure we can help you ?
We're PpI
We're a computer glitch .
a style in your eye ,
we have many questions to ask you .

Then the Raven master who clipped the wings ,
so his birds could never leave the tower ,
So the Kingdom won't. Fall ,
God save us all ,
the day a Raven flys by
and the toy castle walls are broken ,
For Tom and Bow to fairy land must go ,
and leave this crazy world behind them .

I. Used to know you well ,
We used to cook fish by the sea .,
and chat ,
and laugh for what seemed like hours .
Breakfast as the sun rose ,
the waves crashed ,
   upon the shore until they could be heard no more .
My words just resemble puff clouds now that just sail by ,
and now everything I do just becomes a more
Complicated form of boredom .
Where Sea Eagles made their nests ,
their talons now lie encrust in Neolithic tombs . For,
What follows me at night ,
Keeps its distance at dawn .
My metal gods goad me to become God like ,
and spit in my face when aragance calls .
For in thirty thousand years when I. am dust
And Archeolagists turn me into an antiquity ,
Angels will still be singing your praises ,
their joyful  song untold ,
.
How our friends don't listen ,
and the bad shepheard steals
from their love feasts ,
Takes and does not put back .
The Suns setting ,
soon it's light will fade ,
Darkness will encapsulate the Suns Ray's again .
Say a prayer for the dying  ,
Say a prayer for the lost
For in daylight the heart beats
For it's in its light that Christ is found ,
Sleep well my bleeding soul .

Today is a great day ,
A new day ,
as if the old one didn't. matter .?
Tim Peakes. Picture as the earth set over the sun .
My song of hope ,
To teachers sat cheating scandal  ,
a new day would be cut short only for a new one to begin .
' Thank you for a better read if only for a little while '
But if good things must end for poetry to begin ,
And a new day dawns with Tim Peakes sun rises over this earth ,
Then a new sun must rise over thick dense cloud ,
Of waterless  tears ,
And poets dance ,  
and crows  Sing ,
and the weary traveller never rest his head ,

For twilight. Is near ,
Is ever present  ,
And he who slumbers shall never find rest .
And to fail is to never try ,
To live is to never die ,
As Lucy stood tall to **** **** a girl guides pride and joy ,
Dare mighty things ,
Failure is not an option ,
And thirty five poems on ,
Still going strong ,  
Because of new day ,
I can gladly say ,
Happy Birthday to Phil
The poet X.

We are full of it ,
the stain of corrupt stained. flesh ,
that should haunt our every being .
It is what we live with ,
and feed until like an unwanted guest
stares at us from the corner of a room
and fixes its eyes  on us ,
helpless to its gaze .

     It cusses and dam s us ,
Corodes us  until its acid rain rust particles form .
It's. Rebellious   Angels drag us down
to the way of Cain  ,
Like The way of Kora we stand unflinching.
A spot on white gloss ,
like a muscle needs fibres  to tear ,
Blood to pump ,
Oxygen   to breath it is starved of such things .
A worm burrows through timber ,
as water seeps into wood ,
Is only fit for wood to be burnt ,
Set ablaze into the nights sky ,
and carbon fills the earth .

Like the toxins of cigarette smoke ,
Into lungs no longer fit to breath
It's like a ticking of a clock ,
Yet it bothers us not ,
Lot and Sodam understood it not ,
and death is its grim reaper ,
   An olive branch is cut off ,

Thrown into the flame ,
Yet one cup can cleanse a dying soul
Never to be thrown into the fire .
Sin .

Mummy looked with Johnny
at the pages of a book before
Johnny went to bed .
Is God really like that Johnny said
an old man with a beard
On a cloud of soft Philadelphia ?
And is the devil have a pointy
Stick and like  ACDC  says
Hell ain't a bad place to be Mummy ?
'. Let's  turn the page and find out "

An Ambulance raced through Ashfords
Streets  with sirens and da da da s .
and on its way past a big red bus
Today you shall be with me in paradise
emblazoned on the side .

The crow landed on the place they called the skull .
and pecked at the rock for a while .
8 " Roman nails  hammered down  into an outstretched hand .
Ahhhh a cry of agony as the nail found blood and wood below . Again the other hand a blood curdling cry ,
the Savior of the world nailed on a cross to die .
I am the way truth life ' he said and suffered for our sin .
The good Shepheard , the gate to all who might enter in .
Yet they mock and scorn the unbeliever in coffee shops
and factory's .
' King of the Jews they say come down come down today ? '
Christ '.
Jesus '.
they cuss and swear ,
Like jeering crowd Barabus call ,
The *** swear and spit .

" Arnt. You afraid of God ? said the theif  who hung next to thee
Today you will be with me in paradise my Savior said to me .

Oh Violinist of Mosul who played on the roof as Daesh advanced  ,
And children of Syria who's  Assads. Chemical bombs dropped ,  for the humble of heart ,
Christ died for thee .
For the Aragant proud ,
Christ weeps ,
and for lost sheep may he never stop searching .
Oh bitter cup of wroth out of my Fathers. hand didst. Poor .
Bread and wine ,
Pass over lamb ,
the first born
A cross on the door .

' Anun Mithaleq '.

Darkness fell  at. noon ,
a mad  cattling hell cried out as
Satans Demons danced  ,
Gods judgment Fell .
Pitch black ,
The earth shook ,
Holy of holys curtain torn ,
And a game of top trumps is played out in the heavens .
And as three hours passed ,
Christ breathed his last ,
Father into thy hands I commit thy spirit .

Oh rotting corpse ,
and linen ties in a tomb you lay .
But Gods trump card has rolled this stone away.
And where a grave of tears and spices sadly once met in death ,
A tomb stone rolled ,
He is not here ,
He has risen an Angel did say ,
Why look for the living amugst. the dead ?
Do you not know the name of the winner ?

Then one day a Farmer came and gave grave news to Amy ,
Her Father had died and by his side a bag of gold and a cross
sold for a penny .
The Gold was sold to build a Church where her Father lay.
And one Easter morn just before dawn she gave her life to thee.

Now underneath an old oak tree a crow lay slowly dying ,
and a Blackbird sung ,
a new days begun .

There you have  it Johonny said mummy now it's time for bed .

Yet in some leafy field of green where Henry Vlll might have
been a stag bellowed .

The Ghost in my machine
an hallucination of where I have been
and echoes of my past .
Of loved ones lost in a dream ,
Take good care ,
it's been fun ,
Thanks for the chat ,
and in no time at all ,
They've all gone again .
Your very kind ,
Thanks for your help ,
These platitudes really matter .
And time goes by and you and I ,
Keep sailing on from shore to shore
With two ores ,
Unlike an owl and ***** cats romance by the sand ,
there's no full moon ,
Or money wrapped in honey .
Just an endless fools singing love songs
Singing love songs for a weeping heart forever .

The best poem   I ever wrote is still inside my head ,
The best poem I never wrote simperly went to bed ,
And as time flew by ,
My thoughts and I said farewrell  ,
and tbe greater hell ,
I knew quite well ,
Forget me not ,
i need a pen and paper .
But failing that
I need a pen and paper .
In tbe street ,
On my bike ,
I know my words will perish .
Just you and I as time goes by ,
With no sword drawn beside me ,
and off they go ,
and like a dream are lost forever inside me

It's. Two in the morning and the fox began to Yelp and Yelp and Yelp .
Until the Dog decides I've. had enough fox disturb my sleep ,
I shall bark and woof and woof and woof until you go to sleep .
Then the birds sang and sang their morning chorus cheep  
, and all the while all I could hear was  
Woof. Yelp and cheep .

I awoke to eggs and bacon a whiff upon the stairs .
my Mamgu loved to cook for me
with spot the ball and find the score draw then
Off to paint with easel in hand out to grey sky's did st. go .
  Then back for lunch , tray in hand with neighbors on the tele ,
Sons and daughters. and the
Sullivan's with cups of tea and cake .
Tales of a mouse running up my Fathers trousers ,
my Aunty Jane and panda cars and
Cuckoo clocks ,
and China dogs upon  a table .
And round and round we would go on roundabouts in my Dadcu s. Old Triamph .
Then came Dr Beechings With a boo and a hiss ,
for leaving sacks on his workers heads and
how the axe fell on Ystalyfera Station
Now he and the Sheriff. Of Nottingham  would make a double act
Where's Robin Hood and little John , and that blessed silver arrow ?

What of the curtain in the train ,
Where carriages and people meet ,  
and unsteady feet pass by
by moving floor ,
I ask what's behind the curtain ?

And by my Mamgus back door a curtain hung ,
Outside the outdoor privy ,
Of mice and men let me say again ,
What s behind the curtain ?

Of lazy days of whist and pairs Mamgu and I around the table ,
Bruno  Tyson ,
Hand of God ,
evenings in front of the tele .

A mangle  ,
a washing machine that turned into Captains Log Star date ....

A road ,
Tin  cop cars  racing around a carpet ...
Bobby scampering up and down the stairs ,
The sweet shop my Aunty ran Next door .
Pink envelopes with sweets in

Then my Dadcus plot of land that over looked the mountain
So lovingly tendered ,
With peas ,
and runner beans  *** in hand and **** to pick my Dadcu loved to garden
. Now I could go on but time moves on
and heavens gates await thee ,
an infant in my Mamgus arms ,
as Poppy's pepper the fields ,
Worn on proud men's shirts ,
in remembrance of the fallen .
  And as evening called ,
Gods creation sang in beautiful sky's  as if to remember ,
the life of love given up for the servitude of many .

If I have everything ,
but you .
If all I love are ghosts and tears .
Then what if my beloved ones are lost to indifference
With nothing to sharpen my quill ,
and by bow finds not its rest ?
Only then will your book find peace in my heart .
Yet my beating heart is so weak , it's muscles once pumped ,
now grow weary .

Then awaken my soul again , so sinful thoughts do not abound .
Take this heart and nail it to your mast ,
Let this listing ship  not sink without trace ,
The raging waters not buffer its sides .
Be still .
I am waiting for you ,
With open arms waiting for you .
I am still here waiting .
That ship will reach calmer waters ,
a safe harbour ,
Come I am waiting ,
You are not alone .

I'm. lost !
This vast expanse of emptiness that surrounds me .
I. Kid you not ,
for the way I came was easy ,
and in the slightest moment you were gone .
The dancing girls  with their waves and curls ,
and the minstrel band that played ,
to hapless tunes and wild perfumes. that captured my heart ,
Yet like Japanise Knot **** wormed and took root ,  
bound my heart with chains ,
with a thud  left crippled and dying ,
Fell into this pit of hades that surrounds me .

How the wolf cub howls ,
Howls into the night ,
Into the North ,
Where the she wolf instinct calls .
The mother finds its cub again ,
after searching day and night .

Yet the bell tolls not only for the dying ,
but for those who walk with dancing girls ,
and for those who have given up trŷing .

How stupid am I to let time pass by and not care for those around me ?
For the past has gone ,
and time moves on in the egg glass timer that surrounds me .
For a change of heart ,
Is the greater part and its this that must bind me ,
and with Gods good grace ,
To seek his face
Not to be dammed by those
around me .

My dear friend ,
Let me leave you with the concept of nothing .
No thoughts ,
adjectives , vowels or nouns .
Nothing .
Not a white sheet of paper ,
Just the endless ticking of a clock ,
tick tick .
Then you might begin to understand
The master of what is real ?
For out of nothing comes thought ,
Pictures in your mind .
Then and only then can you start to write .

A bird claws at my window Paine , it's midnight , and squawks for half an hour .
Now the birds in your room ,
You chasten it with a broom to which there is no ending .
But what if there is no room ?
And why is there something rather than nothing ?

Then what if that something was God ?
That entity that like th a poet could bring things to life ?
His word might become flesh ,
So light might overcome the dark .
Then the sun like a bridegroom might rise and in the evening tide set .
Eight hundred and sixty four thousand miles wide ,
Fifteen million Celsius of heat .
Gods champions league ,
his Gold cup .
Earth his paradise .
Like a child leaves his socks on the floor ,
My child's been here before ,
Yet our perverse minds can't see , God s. beauty and majesty .

Blind fold we walk into the night ,
with only selfish thoughts to please ,
Like cowards we shrivel and die ,
and evil a ghost of the light .
Bound it must take flight.
Then pride and greed our selfish need are mounted on stallions of which no man canst tame .
What if a crimson light ,
from a cross of wood speaks like a whisper to a beating heart ?

For the lives of the wicked are but empty ,
And in doing right we suffer long ,
In contemplation of things eternal ,
Is reward in Gods heaven above .

We beat our ******* how rightchous am I ,
God look down on me a sinner .
X

The Crow suddenly turned its head ,
Flapped its wings ,
and I followed it to the heavens .
Where like a traveller in time ,
Gases  ,
Gravity , and
Time ,
Eight billion degrees of energy , time and space .
Trillions of years amassed .
The great I Am
hangs his baubles in the heavens ,
His tinsel in the sky's .
His most dazzling  star ,
Perched on top of his Christmas tree .
His cherry on his cake ,
Above oh little , insignificant ,
Back street town of Bethlehem .
There will be no Palace for this Prince of peace ,
this once fetus ,
perfect d n a. ,
Gods new Adam ,
Who once touched the tree .
This new life ,
God ,
The great I Am .
Spewing child ,
Born in a slum ,
Cradle of the Universe ,
Worship him .

From the East they came ,
Gold for a King ,
Frankensense of milk white resin ,
and Myrrh oh sweet resin of death .

Greccio 1223
St Francis of Assisi
Found detestable Greccio s. Fancy feasts and drunken ways .
This feast of Christ had become a farce .
With Manger Ox and *** ,
as midnight bell did sound ,
They gathered in the forest ,
and with Psalms of Joy did sing ,
With praise to their King .,
Who conqured
death
and assended on high ,
For whoever will believe on him shall never die .
With lanterns lit oh glorious sound ,
A babe was seen on this hallowed ground .

Oh dove at Christs baptism ,
Oh star above from where he layed ,
Oh holy night ,
Say to the towns of Judah
Here is your God .

A Farmer placed a cross of wood for his beloved friend ,
In a field of snow to mark the grave for where he lay ,
a sodden block of wood .
A Crow perched for a little while on that Cross he layed ,
his only friend layed to rest in a cold dark thank less grave .
His feet frozen in the snow ,  
no one for him to talk to ,
Just a field of empty snow. .
A cross of wood before him ,
one Cross sunk in this bitter field ,
and a few penny's to his name
Now to tell a tale of woe and self belief ,
this genr who now layes beneath a slab was hungry for some meat .
To feed his daughter and his wife to London Docks did go ,
and when those gate were open wide a thousand men burst forth ,
only to lose his footing and so ,
down he went, with no air for man to breath , into the ground  did go..
Gave up  his life to sacrifice for his wife and for his daughter .

The Farmer picked up his sack that he had carried with him , full of
Food , poltary bread and cheese , and left it for outside the
doors of every slum that night .
To lay down our lives so our friends may live would be the least a man could do .
To give ones life at Christmas time so this bread could satisfy your soul .

Hush Mummy and Daddy creep up the stairs   ,
Hush don't awake the kids ,
With silver bows next to their children's toes ,
Back from midnight mass ,
On this sacred holy night ,
dressed in red ,
With a hood over their head ,
awaited for dawn on this blessed morn ,
With jingle bells ,
and cuddles .
And a feast fit for a King .


The crow with sacred book now turned to a holy man of times long past ,
the book of Zechariah .
Come to me Jeruslem ,
Gods people on earth unite ,
One Holy mountain will split on Christs return ,
East and to the West .
Like a theif in the night .
No shrine ,
No catacomb,
No rotting corpse ,
To  bow low ,
But a Risen Christ. ,
On Holy mountain ,
One King over all the earth .
The crow left the Church which door had been left ajar ,

For later that night the Farmer would. Gaze on a cross  in a Church where carols sang ,
Sang from hungry souls that Christmas night was the heart of every man ,
In thankful praise their God filled days  that Christ did come to save this earth
From this sinful  soul on man

A Crow landed  in a field of snow ,
Only for a moment ,
Lay a golden ball behind it .
It's. Sun lit Ray's cast its light on this field of snow ,
With only an trees of Oak to hide it .

Jingle Bells  a **** Santa sells in shops all set for Christmas ,
With halo lights and tinsel ,
With too much beer ,
hell. draws near ,
and the tinsel town with its bright pritty lights ,
Sees. Sirens and sick men spewing in a gutter.

A winters blast of times long past ,
In Ashfords streets. Rattling cans ,
and Street grinders. , Santa Claws and slay.
pray happy tunes for weary souls
on a cold winters day .


Yet in 1898 the Americans mined for Gold ,
The Chilkoot. trail ,
Or the White pass ,
Ones hell ,
the others destruction .,

Which ever which way you'll  wish you took the other .
Men's dreams of paradise would perish in the snow

Now a Cross of Roman wood outside a City gate for the Son of man did wait ,
Where blood trickled down from a thorny Crown ,
Unto Goblets made for thankful souls ,
for mans sin would be dealt with in just one day ,
To appease Gods holy wrath .

At dockers gate a man did wait and was crushed for want of bread ,
For God so loved ,
his only Son ,
to die on Roman wood .
For what hell could not hold ,
Paradise would enfold ,
Fountains of grace for many .,
Who turn from their sin ,
and trust in him.
For the Sun will rise on golden fields of green ,
and harvest souls where Crows once fed on soil fit for a King .
.

" How far the crow flys they say .
I watched intently as the crow suddenly took flight ,
above dense grey clouds it flew ,
far above chimney tops ,
and the smoke that billowed out heating comfy homes ,
and little boys and girls dreaming of Christmas toys from Santa .
Where air was thin ,
Somewhere between heaven and earth !
Where night and day , sun and moon ,
and rain ,
are somehow forgotten .
The crow landed on a branch ,
below a most beautiful garden .
Streams of living water gave life to its plants ,
Where no **** could be found .
No rain ,
No Sun ,
No moon by night .
Something more splendid ,
Holy ,
Walked this place .
Why have you brought me here I cryed ?
What right do I have to stand in this place ?
I. Was born ,
Not of love ,
But of lust .
Hated by my Father ,
Left for dead by my Mother ,
Dragged up from the gutter ,
Bread and cheese .
Yet my Woman and daughter I loved ,
Begged , and tramped for bread to feed their pritty heads .
Crushed to death ,
With no grave to rest my head .

Then I saw a naked man reach up to grab some fruit ,
Without a thought he took a bite ,
and a sneering snake took root .
'" Where are you what have you done ? "
I heard a voice did say
My bird took flight from paradise ,
I watched it fly away .
Far above the starry night ,
above where angels sing
and lead to far greater things
Than I could ever dream .

My eyes  sore from the teaming rain that Bucketed down ,
drenching my cloaths and skin , yet became transfixed
On a crow busy plucking parasites from a stags backside ,
It was early ,
the Sun had just risen  , and a frost still clung to the shrubs chilling by bones as I stood
there alone for what seemed like an eternity .

For a week we lived like Kings on bread and cheese and beautiful things my wife , daughter and I
With fabric to mend , wash and sow ,
how the work came in .
A good fire at night that kept us warm ,
a few shillings for lodging ,
a roof over our heads ,
Curled up in our beds ,
Warm and fed .
Then skin and bone ,
as winter called ,
and hale and gale ,
and famine .

No bread ,
to feed our famished souls ,
On chicken feed ,
my daughter fed ,
From the baker I begged,
Swollen stumucks ,  
Frozen nights , cast out .for a penny of gold
A bed in a slum ,
a new days begun ,
To ***** the streets ,
from dawn to dusk ,
Looked Down by the well to do ,
afraid to buckle my shoe .
I walked for days  .
Then down to the Docks where hundreds flocked ,
Crammed in like cattle .
If death has no power over love , then why do I stand here , alone , in the freezing cold.
With no room to breath , or turn ,
no air to fill my lungs ,
a mass of bodies ,
Thousands of men ,
a surge of bodies behind me ,
I slipped and fell ,
Now here I stand with deer and crow before me

When word and deed is done , then cometh the truth .
Bread of life for common man the Son of God did say ,
Now tomorrow morn , before the great White throne ,
I must plead my case .
For where my sinful soul once trod a good Shepherd kept his flock ,
To pay before a holy God .
A red deer to be culled for Christmas .

My Crow took flight once more. and as
The sun rises and sets ,
What is new under the sun ,
but a Holy God before me .

I. awoke at three in the morning to the sound of Elephants of the Serongetti up and down my stairs ,
Thud
         Thud
                    Thud
                             They left a thud that went straight through me.
Then trumpet sound of slamming doors and endless chatter that somehow just didn't matter ,
at 3 am in the morning .
Outside fireworks were set off a crackle to the heavens , beneath the billions of stars
Our sun bringing light to this cradle of satan , once loved God , God had lovingly hung in the heavens.
Beyond that  the Milky Way a little girl picks up from the table , starts to tear its wrapper ,
'. No dear not before lunch '. Said Mother , the little girl looked perplexed and returned
It to the table .
A potter hangs his earthenware ceramic ball Of clay amugst the stars and weeps at how
Sad it has become , compared. to all the other bright stars and. Galaxy's he has made.
All. The Rivers , and Sky's  , all the unborn babies. Cries .
Like shifting sand the land has become dammed ,
One Cross of Roman wood ,
One hope ,
A line of Jessie ,
Crushed ,
Like a rose to rise again .
One plan , for man ,
On Savior to walk this earth .

An Acrid smell of nicotine from my neighbors flat below ,
Stale and pungent , it hung in the air , and lingered like an Angel of death above my bed ,
And Mrs Hubbard who came out of my cupboard , with a broom she had found on the
Moon  chased the mouse out of my house ,
In the light of the moon , a. Fly passed by , who wasn't taken in by the spider beside her.
And the lovers who had pots and pans and crazy plans ,found love
Over coffee and tea , and sympathy ,
Cuddled in bed .
And as dawn awoke , to bird song ,
a single prayer was heard ,
That man should know Gods Glory
amugst the singing of the birds

I. awoke  to silence  at. 2. In the morning ,
no banging of car doors ,
no. Thud , thud , thud , sweek BANG !
        thud. Thud  thud. Sweek BANG  !
          Thud. Thud. Thud. Squeak BANG !
Chatty neighbors. back from the theatre , or a meal in town .
at. 2 in the morning .
Not even to the sound of friends late night party , chatting over a few drinks in a nearby. Garden , at 2 in the morning .
Or Lovers fighting , broken glasses , pots and pans and crazy plans .
Or lovers making out between the sheets of wild intent .
to disturb me at two in the morning .
There was no tap , tap , tap ,      Tap , of a. dripping tap
Or humming fridge
To disturb me at 2 in the morning .
No mouse  to come in from the rain which pelted against my window pain ,
and scared Mrs Hubbard  who was found in my cupboard ,
Afraid of the big fat spider who happened to see the fly , who just passed by ,
and in the wink of an eye found a web , and a meal for the spider who had waited so long
beside her.
Not forgetting the wasp in the sock , which stung my poor foot , as  I got dressed in the morning .
Not the ticking of a clock could be heard , nothing ,
Until I slept ,
and dreamt a while ,
And dawn would break , to bird song ,
and a new day
at two am in the morning .

There's a Church that stands between Dudley road and Clarendon ,
a Church with a foundation stone where time has eroded.
It's  a. Capstone built with firm foundation ,
and a. King of Love  , who speaks out through written word has given his life for me ,
A. Crimson light ,
A   lampstand. Of Gold , with two olive trees flanked on either side ,
An endless stream of olive oil to keep the lamps light .
Before me a preacher and  an uncomfortable truth .
Behind the preacher lay a feast set for a King ,
That we may love him a little and pray we should with all our hearts draw near
and love him more .

Yet  how easely our lives become dissembled , and
Integrity bought for a penny .
Our beloved friends ,
Loves,
quickly become Ghosts of our past , present and future
For Loneliness. And fear flee ,
Forgiveness forever waltz with grace .
Enginuity meet with the fire flys of our day ,
Dragons that unite this England ,
Fiery monsters that **** Englands green and pleasant land ,
and unite its people .
An Iron Horse of steel , Pistons of smoke bringing hope
And entegrity to these green fields of home .

"   Let there be light , for i have formed you in the secret place , the apple of my eye ,
In the shadow of my wings , from the depths of the earth you were woven together
Knitted together in your Mothers Womb before time ...
  
Then the word became of flesh ....

The Fog decended on Ashfords quiet streets  , a golden ball hung in the sky only to shrouded
For a moment before bursting forth , dispensing of the mist that had encapsulated it .
Now for a moment at least it would shine like the morning star on this small leafy superb .

Earlier the previous day I had run  into the early mornings Autumble darkness
before any light had even decended .
A. room with four walls no shredding no light in my world , only shapes , my eye became
Accustomed to the darkness that surrounded it .
Inside the only door became bolted from within .
A Fairy tale of a man outside knocking was the only sound I could hear from picture books
My dear old mother used to read to me , and from Church pews long since forgotten .
Yet I have learned to live in this world where solitude is easy on the eye , and loneliness
a comfort blanket .
Easiest  thing in the world for pig to return to its sty
a dog to its ***** .
But what is a. Christian without a   Heart ,
a love without. a. Lover
A man without a wife
a cross without a Savior
a heart without a home ,
a rebel without a cause
a. Church without its capstone . ?

Engrossed. by the knocking. I heard I began to  take down the bolt , my heart
Once bound by night  now became flooded by the light ,
Fragments
Specs invaded my eyes , so bright the morning sun could have blinded me .

June. 1876. Chief Sitting Bull gives of his body , cutting his arms , to give of himself to his
Grandfather the creator .
Two days of dancing before the great sun , then came the vision .
White man will fall from the sky like locust with no ears to hear I give them to you
Do not take from the body's. *****  '.

My school cap started to fly around the play ground , I wasn't to have brought in my
Queens carrage with horses and now my cap was missing !
  
As far as the eye could see. Chief Sitting Bull had amassed.
Lakota , Sioux and Cheyenne Warriors ,
'. This will be a. Good day to die '.

My men had gone on ahead , I just had to see what my Scoat had seen for himself ,
and climbed up on a ridge .
As far as the eye could see. Savages. Armed to the hilt.
Feeling the blood drain from my face   , what had I done , would I ever see My little Sunbeam again ?
Coming in form the playground I proudly told miss I was. Custard. , a wry smile came over
her face , '. You mean. Custar. , ' .  Bemused I replied. No Custard. Miss I was Custard ' .

The custard jug spun round and around , and around. ,
with every child hopeing , praying not me .
Not my turn to eat its skin , oh but someone had to
Would it be my turn today ?

Yet. Someone had to that was the name of the game. , to see. The joy on
their faces. , the bemusement of others. for the sorrow of one .

















A Wagon in hospital , along with. Cowboys and a horse.
A. Doctor. Awaited. ,
'. Oh. What a. Brave boy. (. to see. The Doctor alone on my own ? )
Here's. a. Syringe you Brave boy . '.


Yet we sang Yellow submarine in the playground , played football. With concrete
Seats. Tennis ***** .
and looked out for Sir .
We played Bull dog  ,
Swopped. Football bubblegum cards for Gordon Banks or Bobby Moore .









and eat bom boms and sugary treats out of white. Paper bags ,
and Golden nuggets. Straight out of the box .

'. Bang bang your dead '
   Bang  bang your dead '
    The gun slinger came over. As I sat quietly on the ridge .
    I had a lot to learn about death it seemed .
The Seventh Cavalary were being shot at  by the ravine
Heads severed. , scalped , body's mutilated. ,
Bang , bang , bang , shots fired at will. , death a heart beat away , and a ****** end
Custar s. Men shell shocked. Awaited the Indians. Granddad. In the sky
The Indians. plundered. Ransacked what was left , forgotten Sitting Bulls words .
Now where ever they may stand forever on this White mans land .

'. The Beatles have split '. What ?  Why would a Beatle split I asked myself ?
We were all waiting to go in lineing up one by one
To find our own coats with pegs and and hats and cartoon cats and name tags.

Sunday School. Plastic shields and swords .
' Now remember
I am a star that shines so bright sending true seekers here tonight '
Ashford Congrigational  Sunday
'Sunday 18.  September. 2016
Then I looked up and there before me were four horns ,!  
I asked the Angel. What are these ?  
These are the horns that have scattered. Israil and Jeruslem .
Then the Lord showed me the four craftsmen
What are these for ?
These are the horns that have scattered Judah.
so that no one could raise his head ,
But the craftsmen have come to terrify them ,
and throw down these horns
Who have lifted up their horns against. the land of Judah. and scatter its people.

The paster lifted his head , '. You are the craftsmen  , now raise your hand
If you agree
And many did .

The year. 1562. The place. Fort. Caroline. , We. Have found in the Americas. a dry herb
With cane and earthen cup , they smoke it through the cane thereof .

September. 2016 .
Dear. Doctor. ,
I. Think I'm. a. chimney. ,
my lungs stacked high with bricks,
With N H S. guide lines  full of ***** tricks. .
Weened from inside my mothers womb ,
the sweet smell of nicotine my mothers. Perfume .
How it smelt from inside my Pram  mother and I went a. Shopping .
Then from the back of our car ,
as we drove far ,
that. Smell with Windows. ajar. ,
from the back of our car .
How I. Looked up to. Father. ,
When we went to the shops ,
*** in hand ,  
One day  I'll  be a man ,
With *** in hand like he .
Hanging outside Londis ,
talking to strangers. ,
A. Packet. For a. Tenner for me ?

Dear. Doctor.
                      I. Think. I'm. a. Steam train ,
Cough. Phlegm ,
Cough. Phlegm. ,
Cough. Phlegm ,
Cough.  Phlegm .
...........
Now I. Have my N H S. Bed. With family all around ,
My  C O J D. breathing ap at my side .

My. Coughing  a. Coffin  now ,
I'm. Early for my funeral
Friends and  family. all. around .
". he liked his Cigarettes. "
". Long time dead
Could have been knocked down by a bus " they said .
Coughing. , coughing , coffin .  











,

We. Wallow. In our degradation. Until. Our hearts become. Callus.  Within. ,
Love. the. evil. We have become , and hate the good.

". Bar ram you to your clan , your. Fleece be true. , sheep be true bar ram you "

Buckingham. Palace. 1837. a. Young. Queen. Victoria.  Salutes. her people
". Never let them know how hard it is to bear ma'am. ' Lord Melbournes words  ringing in her  Majesty's ears.

'. But. You. My. Friends are a. Royal priesthood , a chosen people , nation set apart. ".
" never surrender ""
Though. Friends mock , and Pitt.  May  call. ,  loneliness. Rear its ugly head .
Wondering minds persist ,
my God is ever near ,
Abba. Father never let my heart tepid be .

It's  2002. Ashford. Railway station one Saturday  morn
How late. My train would be.
'. There's more to life than work Phil '.  a. Fair. Maden said to me.
How right she was  , that Sunday eve  my heart. Danced for joy ,
" two  lost sheep " sat. Side by side ,  and bound themselves to thee.
Though I walk through the valley of death  ,
With thicket. And thorn on each side ,
And briers on either side .
Light. and love will. Follow

1757
'. " Prone to wander bind thy wandering heart to thee "
      I find  myself  a traveller in a stage coach  peering
Over my fellow travellers. Scroll  .
and  weep over what I. had once wrote. , and bemoan
What I had become .

If. The mountains be carried into the sea ,
and I. trust not in chariots , and gold ,
and friends who mock my God ,
Or  flee to more pressing. encounters
take refuge in thee.

I. Shall. Hate evil  and cling to the good .
Don't. Be lonely ,
Iron shall strike Iron again ,
and walk through my Saviors. Open gate  full of rich pasture ,
And turn my eye from shallow things .

It's. 1779. and the Greyhound. Sinking fast
" Oh Lord have Mercy I. Cry as a sailor is tossed over board ,
In front of my very own eye .
Save a wretch like me "

With the spirit of Redmond  in 92. To Finnish his race
May our fleece be true bar ram you x

1044.  BC
King.  David.  Writes. On the. Run from Saul
". Keep me. Safe. O. Lord in you I  take. My. Refuge."
The. Year. 1338.  
A.  Pestulance. Lies. Untouched.  for. Hundreds. Of. Years. Suddenly. Awakens. .
  China.  The once. Great.  Mongolian.  Empyre   Finds. a. Gateway to the. West,
Only to become. Ravished by. Sickness.  ,.
Cappas. Catapult  corpses. ,
Cappa. S.  Merchants. Flee. On. Death. Boats. Set. For. England ,
Prosperous. England's.  Green fields.  ,  
A. Monks. Prayer  
". Dear. Lord. Keep. This. Sickness. Away from these. Green  fields. "
Yet.  Flanders.  Ships. Sailed. ,
Port. To. Port. The. Merchants.  Sailed .
Fear. Stalked. the. Deckhands. ,
Stay away "  
Stay. Away ". Cry. After. Cry. , untill
The. Ghost ships. Deadly. Cargo.  Of.  Fleas. , and. Rats.  Sailed. Into. The.  evenings. Sun.
Airborne !,!!!  
Boils
Fever,
The. Spewing ,
Dead. In. Six. Days.
They. Danced. The. Macarbra. ,  ..
Mothers.  Abandoned their children. ,
Fields.  Lay. Empty. Of. Harvest ,
Death. Stalked. England's. Green. Fields. Like. a. Table. Cloth set. For. Tea .
  
God. Is.  Love. ,
God. Does. Not. Condem.
Those. He. Loves.  To. Damnation. For their sin.
All. Will. Be. Well.  do not. Fear.
For. All. Will. Be. Well. ""
Julian of. Norwich. Had. Seen a. Great. Vision
Burn.
Her. Manuscript. Must. Go. To. The. Flame"
The. Reformers.  Came. .
With. Pitchfork and. Intent.
Yet. They. Found. Nothing.  
Nothing but. An impenetrable   Fortresses of. Love.
Ashford. In. Middlesex.    Twenty. Sixteen.  
Dudley. Road. Sunday. Morning  ,
God. Forgives our sin.
and. Heals. Our. Deseses. ""

When was the last time  I. Panted. For the water. . ?
When was the last time I. Knelt. before his throne. . ?
The deciever. Will come up to me and say '. Sickness. Be gone '.
But. It's. In Christ. Alone we are saved , in him salvation is found .,
every knee. Laid low .
Pockets of water gather on mountain tops .
From rills to ravines , gush and flow . .
Rocks from volcanoes solidify. ,
turn to crystal dreams in granit  lost in  space and time .
born from magma. They are formed  
Only in time , only in time .
Yet  in a cave in my mountain my kings hand is never  over my cup ,
nor my goblet. Left dry .
In the shadow of my mountain. Trees find  water , prosper in every season .
Then in '. Eighteen  hundred. and frozen to death '  came a rolling doŵn
My mountain , a. Thick cloud covered. This ball of clay in the heavens .
Birds fell from the sky ,
Fish floated in the water ,
Farmers. Returned. Fleeces. To their beasts of the field .
Poets. Retreated indoors ,
Out of dreams Frankenstein wax born .
'.Bread or blood ' the peasants cry
God hast. Breathed. On our green fields. and turned them to a white frozen waste lands .
'.or has Napolian. Captured. The sun ?  
Out. Of this misery. the deceives. Came .
The ear twitchers. Listened  ,
Gods book found new. Chapters. ,
To profits of the new age .
Oh you. Can still , even now hear them knocking on your door .
Listen carefully ,
Stay alert . !  
For as  Eligh. Layed. Twelve stones
Baal. Men danced. ,
As. Eligh. Called down from heaven
Baal s. Men ran ,
And as Eligh. Came a looking ,
Fire and water reigned down .
One God of the land .
Yet even today there's. A heart break a  coming my way .

Out  of  a  window across.  , across. Open  seas. and mountains
Gods great fountains  and streams of life .
To  drink from living waters  drawn from   a  living. Spring  of eternal. Salvation .
To   feast from the living bread , and drink the cup  of new wine .
Little bird don't. be afraid ,
the thoughts of your mind that  inprisoned you have long since passed .
Sing , Sing  like a  free bird Glory songs  to your
maker,
redeemer ,
King .
For. Your sins  once. Scarlet. Like blood  seeping from an open wound
, now like  crisp white fallen snow at dawn .
Untouched by foul beast  trodden down by man , or sodden by heavens tears .
So hate what is evil , cling to the good
and never say die to these things .
Remember them , bind them with a knot to your heart .
So when the bird man comes a calling  with morsols of worldly pleasure ,
remember your cage the times you cried freedom .
Drempt. Of blue sky's.
Fly high little bird your free
Fly high like a free bird yeah !
Book of Galations chapter five verse one X

We woke up in  1987   To felled. Trees  and hurricane winds ,
and a  weather forcast  that went down in the annals of infamy .

The spin a doctors. Went to war in the year two thousand and three  ,
as nature awoke from its coldest winter.
As storm clouds and war pigs gathered ,
a killing machines wheels started to turn.
War mungers at number 10 turned young family's  dreams of sunflower fields
Into sodden clumps of blood .
Man now a corpse of pleasure , Godless , unholy , rash ,
Filled with love of self , God haters , lovers of money , wealth and power .
Feasting under a new moon , gorging on raw meat , yet detestable to God ,
Yet flickers by the light of a fire .
Portals of blood flow from their open wounds
, iniquity  lies like a harlot beside them .
Pride is no more than a grizzly bear they have cought and chained to a log of wood .

A statue lies in a thousand pieces ,
Only for them to crawl back into the woodwork , finding nests  in Europe  and the new World .
They are like false teachers
Offering heaven for a song ,
The Christ plus charlatans  
Private jets , God will cure ,
prosperity and healing cures .
So when the wolf has fled ,
and your lying on your bed
And sickness draws takes a bow.
When atheists come a knocking ,
Keep your Bible open , never let it shut ,
Question every spoken word .
For at satans gate lions wait
To pick on the weak and the lame .
Dead meat to the hungry wolf , who smells blood in the heat of the night .
So run with the pack ,never looking back
Fix your eyes on Christ
On him alone .

God Bless X
Book of Jude

I love you .
Yet I don't. Know you .
To love , is to obey ,
Follow your decrees.
To put you first.
To be holy ,
Set apart .
Your will , not mine .
Divine .
To have no evil ,
Yet  I stumble and fall again and again .
A hand up for me being exhausted for being just who I am.
To have a need to follow when all seems hopeless .
A new being , a new creation .
To love other friends who have long since given up the ghost of your friendship .
To love grace and mercy just as if they were my own .

'. If anyone competes as an Athlete  he does not receive the victors crown unless he competes
according to the rules 2 Timothy ch 2 v 5

I watched from the hallway of 19 Cimla Creasant ,my Gran with her Bible praying by herself .
Just Gran and God , her daily act of obedience unto thee.
' Call yourself a Christian ? '. My Grans rebuke of some mischevious deed ,
For all I knew were scorcher comics and superman books , and sooty and sweep
Squashed in a cupboard .
Yet Gran has her victors Crown her wreath of golden bronze , She ran her race with Gods
Good grace , and at last seen Christ face to face ' well done my good and faithful servant . '
Green shield stamps coop books , ham salads and cups of tea .
To look out over skewin and see the night lights shine as if just for me .
Then there was rusty the dog , and the odd 50 p from Aunty Jane in our grateful hands
For an Ice cream for being good as gold ,
We would listen for the coo coo bird on the hour and like trumpton take a bow .
My Grandads shed where My Father as boy would hammer nails on wooden floor ,
And the scarey cracked old mirror at the very back of the wooden floors.
Of walks to Opels for fish and Chips with white wet hanky at hand .
Sudden stops , just to listen to her grand children talk  and walk down the Cimla again .

Jesus Christ has risen today , Gran took us to her church one Easter
To sit in pews and sing nice hymns , to smile and be polite ,
no Barlymagrew as yet I knew Cuthbert Dibble doubt.

To the knoll we walked ,past river stream , and woodland ,
A cross was marked in some rock along the way ,
Is this where Jesus died , was crucified  , hung up on a tree ?

The book I read on mothers stairs  this man in comic strip ,
When i was 10 years old ,
The same man who died for me  torchered on a tree .
Would it be tie a yellow ribbon , or the ****** red Barron from Germany ?

We used to pray in Chennestone  hands up all to see
a peek to see who's looking
We  listened to Griegs Morning , and sung  there's  no discouragement to be a Pilgrim .

Then one day God came calling on the Isle of Wight.
On  Covie camp on blended knee i opened my heart to thee .
Oh the lion may roar from time to time ,
Gods grace is still enough for me

When flesh is weak ,
and prone. to wonder ,
when man and God don't mix ,
When depression ,and loneliness fill the hollow ,
turning my head and let it wonder to thoughts that haunt my mind .
When I am lost ,
The weakest hour of man on earth .
When thoughts in ones mind are trapped like a bird in a bird cage ,
With no lock to set it free .
Then and only then it's the flapping of my mind that terrifies me .
Oh wounded soul
to lose control
To feel the guilt of wonton lust
. Over time a key is found and my thoughts set free , no more
To persecute me like Pandora's box full of deadly treasure .
But to be set free over mountain and sea ,
Until. The next time my mind starts to wonder

A fire crackles , outside a Forest thick with snow .
a warm glow flickers in his cabin ,
While ox and *** hang on hooks above .
A store house filled with gold and silver ,
a barn house filled with grain .
No need to tear the. Sheaves that matter, fill your. Cup , drink in vain.
Drink to your store house filled with silver
Drink to your store house filled with gold ,
For you have built your own tomorrow
With no need for man or God .
Oh man when you awaken sharpen your sword
Heat up your fires , take iron from burning Cole
. Bend and shape it into a graven image ,
Until it casts a God shaped hole .
Yet in time you will forget your maker ,
The one who gave you air to breath .
The one who gave you life oh mortal ,
To be thankfull for your years .
Oh man of wooden store house ,
oh man of gold and rust ,
For your god will be forgotten
And my God will turn your gold to dust .
For your heart like stone will be shattered ,
Nothing of your store house left .
When your dying days are numbered ,
God calls you to his throne ,
When judgement day is calling ,
With no where to call your home
Isiah ch 44 God Bless X

There's  a foot in my castle ,
Waves upon the sand .
I was King of my castle , with plastic sword in hand .
Now all I see  is rotten wood and sodden grains of sand .
So sure was I as time passed by my castle against the sea .
How could I know my most deadly foe would Persue and follow me .
With walls built from solid sand I looked out as far as my eye could see,
the ocean seen so far away could never bother me ?
Yet one by one my walls fell down , transformed to golden grains of sand ,
as I turned away in sick dismay a rock behind me stood .
And on that rock a house was built where sea gulls and Ravens sawed .
If I could climb a little while to find sanctuary as free as a bird .
Yet we are worth more than the birds above ,
a sparrow sold for a penny ,
My King of love spreads his wings above a ransom paid in full
On silver wings a time to sing to look doŵn on sea and sand .
To fly so high above clouds of grey to a land of milk and honey .
God Bless X
Psalm 18
.

Psalm 14  vs. 1-7 ' The fool has said in his heart there is no God '

' Crown him with many Crowns the lamb upon his throne , hark all the heavenly music drowns all music but it's own '.
" Banished to earth now what ?
Ah Gods blessed created ones
Did God really say that ? '.
A thud as fruit from the mans hand suddenly falls to earth ,
Oh cheribim and flaming sword  thunder hail and rain .

AD 34
" All. Hail King of the Jews , ''.  as The light of the world is slain ,
Lamb of God oh Holy one blessed be thy name .

On a Holy hill death stands still
a curtain torn in two ,
as darkness fell , no more hell and life is born anew .
A gardener who had broken bread , crushed satans head to all who will believe .
Yet man still mocks , time has cast Gods word upon a shelf ,
stacked with books of Peter Pan , with Idols made of gold .
Nailed down on war chalking plinths
Made from nicotine tar and soot .
Forged in bronze , coloured by money , wealth and power.

Yet to the faithful few who gather in pews , every Sunday morn ,
Dawn awakes , heavens gates and with the Angels start to sing praises to
Their Savior King oh hail redeemer King for he has died for me thy praise
Shall never fail throughout eternity ..
God Bless
Jude v 24.x

If. Perfect love casts out fear , then why does so consume me ?
The mere thought severs the soul,
Starves you of rest , yet beguiles me .
Yet God is love , in him we find peace crystallised in our Lord Jesus .
He casts out fear when dawn breaks near,
To the Cross I cling , Lord of everything ,
Embraces the one who's  love is but a tear .

Crown him with many crowns the lamb upon his thro
Sit back in your chair there is no air ,
Your lungs have burst , your crying.
There is no air anywhere, yet those around you are singing ,
Sing out loud to  their creator King ,
Yet inside me I'm dying .
What's with him , can't  he sing ? Why sit down extol him !
Extol him my creator King when inside I feel like dying ?
No air to breath , yet sing with ease a joyful song beside me .
I will rise again to give my King
The air he kindly brought me X

I. have no friends ,
Just  hi , goodbye ,
and others who just won't. Leave me .
That's Bob , must dash ,
Must run , been fun ,
Just say you'll never leave me .
A sudden hi , a last good cry ,
a coffee cup , full of good intentions .
I'm glad you came , come in from the rain ,
Take my hand and smile ,
Stay a while
and say goodbye , just
don't  close the door and leave me .

The sun rose today
Early , behind dark thick clouds ,
If only the cloud had moved ,
Shifted ,
Away ,
Just a glimpse of its golden Ray's would I have seen .
Yet my dark cloud yet bust forth with silver lining ,
And no water it holds anymore , ready to drench
My heart anew .
For that was but yesterday , Christs love now shining through .