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 ..

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 .

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

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

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

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

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


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

and it dos’nt lead to heaven .

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

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

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

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

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

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 .

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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 .

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 .

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 .

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

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

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


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



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



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

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

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

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 ?

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 ‘

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 .

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 .

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

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

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



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

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

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 .

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 .

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.

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 .

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 .

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

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

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 .

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 .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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 .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Cans of fizzy drink were left discarded tossed on beaches .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You might not remember my name ,
but i am still the same .
I am The bright sunlight before the morning cloud ,
the silence before the storm ,
the wicker and the worm .

I am in the bough of a tree ,
that whispers through its falling leaves .
that branch when you were a child when you used to seesaw on
me for a time .

For I am The word that sharpens you’re tongue ,
before a sentence has begun .

I am the arrow that is plucked from you’re bow ,
that tells you’re target where to go .

For I am the oxygen you breath in the night ,
You’re unspoken  thoughts both in the day and of the night .
like you and I on a carousel on a hot summers day ,
those dreams will fly away .


I am in the rainbow that
that spreads far and wide ,
that tell the rain clouds
where to hide.

I am in the words “ I can’t be there “ ,
when that train pulls away ,
and you’re clasping thin air .
When the fumes from the train ,
fill you’re lungs full of smoke .
and the cabbie says “ just you my dear ?

For when you are alone by the grave of you’re friend ,
I will be in the honeysuckle that flowers .

And when you’re world is full of sorrow
I am the binding that holds tomorrow.
I will be the silver lineing when the clouds are still there .
I can be the ray of sunlight that beams from afar ,
that hears you’re prayers ,
that shines down on you’re coffin ,
when heavens doors are ajar .

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 .



'

Faster and faster we ride ,
past the woods and firn and pine ,
untill a tree of rings of love ,
bound us together ,
their branches with a crackle and thud .
Down we fell
further down ,
entwined entangled unexplainable love ,
like a whirl pool our two bodies entwined ,
wrapped together for eternity ,
untill beatle fungi , or man ,
Shall choose to **** us ,
or let us be

And so the years of winter ,
Summer , spring ,
our tree dies and gives us birth again ,
Saplings have grown as we grow old ,
birds have nested in our branches ,
ants, bees , flies flees , and butterflies,
have Passed us by ,
without a hoot or a cry ,
and yet ,
the gull rust passes us by .
O  my lady O  ,
can you see the white carnations all coiled for spring ,
for they remind me ,
You are the  most beautiful thing .

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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 .

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

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

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

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

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

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 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

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

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

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

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


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

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

(

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

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

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

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

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 " ?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then my Nobel Queen to darkened skies I must fight .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 .

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
.