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

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

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

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

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

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 .

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
.

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

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

I always said ,
I always said .

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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 .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Time  to have another drink
This ruddy boats about to sink

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


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

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






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




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

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

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

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

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

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

There goes another poem to a bad gateway wonder if it will save this one

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

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 .

Poetry is like a painting,
You have a blank canvas
and what you are left with
Is a work of art

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 .

,

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 .  .

'. 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

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. ""

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

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 .  











,

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

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 .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 .

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Church bells rang like a fog horn lost out at sea ,
Is there anyone there “ it sang gracefully .
The suns light  hid behind pale blue skies ,
it was eight in the morning in this quiet market town .

The birds could be heard blackbird ,
Chaffinch , thrush ,
all wrapped up in coffee or brunch ,
all were lost to this light house near cliffs on the sea?

Blue bells and blackberry shells ,
fish and chips for tea .
A. quiet harbour a fisherman’s prayer ,
that none should be lost at sea.

And soon the coffee cups were empty ,
soon the bed were made ,
Soon the breakfast dishes were lying empty in the sink .

The towns folk like fish were drawn to a net ,
the old sea dog smiled ,
and stopped pulling on his bell ,
the fish were caught and smiling ,
their souls were saved from hell .

That evening as the waves crashed upon the sand ,
Laver bread and bacon for supper as fishermen’s wife’s ,
Lit fires awaiting their men that may never again see dry land .

Dear God ,
on bended knee bring my man back to me “

The old sea dog climbed the stairs ,
round and round those sturdy old steps ,
and pulled that bell with all his might ,
that none should be lost on this dark night .

There was once a flat in Aberdeen ,
with many books ,
amugst the coffee cups and cigarette buts ,
and bottles of drink ,
stood out one ,
with grim piercing smile ,
held a chill up to my spine ,
a spinderling tale ,
a haunted spirit ,
a young boys mind in ruin .

Untill day dreams and sleep return ,
for in. our minds spiders find time ,
to awaken what has been broken.

For now I have awoken  ,
before the birdsong that herolds the dawn ,
a paper mache mask hangs in mid air .
many many years from here ..
Behind it lies corridors of loneliness,
bittersweet ,
butterscotch candy flakes ,
the dorcedanyas mirrors lost in time and space .
where every room a closed door waits ,
and silence echoes reflections in my grandmas mirror ,
that I’m told go on forever !


Am I awake or am I dead ?
yet a feeling of being alone ,
for his loneliness is a floral bed ,
when paper face takes off his paper mache head .

A closed door an empty smile ,
a mirror that masks the truth in lies ,

For if music halls could still dance and sing ,
he would still be the toast to the king of swing .

His only companions are in his head ,
they goaded him ,
they put the thoughts into his head ,
they told him they wished he were dead .

Now in silence he hangs above my bed ,
at three in the morning,
just before dawn ,
and birdsong breaks this hopeless mourn ,
there’s a knock on my door ,
a spirit of a lady with the most beautiful smile ,
holding lilies ,
In a white long dress ,
awaits to enter her.church on time .

Before my eyes from this paper mask a man with beaming smile I saw in black bow tie ,
and morning suit ,
his buttercup candy flake .
Hand in hand they wait for the sun ,
to vanish in light and love ,
to where heavens chorus breaks .


For loneliness has been and gone ,
and fear has been replaced by morning song ,
for my bedroom is filled with the first beams of light ,
that has cast the spell of loneliness into the night .

" 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 .

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 .

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

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

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

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

Our world is moving further away ,.
Two worlds that once became one .
and here we are on two fluffy clouds ,
drifting further from the sun .

letting go of our silver strings
set before the stars .
Set  before an ink well ,
writing poetry for one .

And then we saw two stars burn out ,
and die,
before our very eyes ,
two lost galaxies lost in time .
And then before a rising sun,
form magestically into one .

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

Swollowed whole .

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

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





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

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

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

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

.i

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 .

When I were Just a lad ,
my uncle used to say ,
as we all walked in the grounds of the gnoll ,
on any hot summers day .
“;there beyond the trees ,
above that starry mount ,
far above an ivy tower you must reach to find you’re love .”

So far that tower seems ,
even to this day ,
past a rabbits foot that lied alone our way ,
how steep was our climb to that tower far away ,

O ld ruins filled with moss and ivy where only
couples lay ,
where the moons and suns that lit up the night ,
seem so far away .

Where lovers lost and without due care find their abandonment ,
only there .
Where parties of guests once ate to great delight ,
In honour of their lords who summoned the night .

So as we approached so near was the sound ,
of people laughing all around ,
for what was once a burnt out shell ,
now found lights and happiness to dwell .
Where fine wine was drunk in copious amounts ,
and the ladies Flornted their wares to any passing gentleman around.

Yet as soon as the sun rose to touch those ivy hills ,
the lights grew dim ,
a morning chill snuffed out the lights ,
untill all was still .
The  people left without a sound ,
like a ghosts of love I find all around dim and distant ,
there is no doubt .
As I looked back amugst the braken and Brooke’s ,
to ruins above me ,
a woman waves to me with smiling cheeks ,
‘ goodbye ‘ said she ,” it’s been fun “
My uncle turned to and said , “ What were you looking at “ ?
“ Nothing said I for love is just for dreamers who just
happen to walk by “ .

A swollow died ,
but as it did it began to fly
for a thousand wings now lay upon its breast .
And upon that breast lay   It’s  head ,
and upon that head ,
a golden crown.,

And upon that crown of burning fire ,
Plumes of smoke were lifted higher .

And then from. that shrill from that birds beak ,
came unspeakable anguish that languished deep .
For death was sprinkled everywhere.
In falling ashes that lit up the sky ,
came winds as fierce as the swallows eye ,
More deadly were the winds that blew ,
that fanned the flames from that swallows crown .

And so life can never be the same ,
as what man uttered to clear his name .
Of all his fossil fuels he lights that burn carbon
into this burning night .
With all the coals that forever burn
Poisious gas that choke and wheeze ,
that brings the child upon her knees ..

A swollow dies his wings are singed ,
It still sings a song no one can sing .
But if they could what would we say ?
for another Forest has. Been burnt today .

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 .

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

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

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

"   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 .

There’s bird poo on my window ,
It’s been there a while ,
I’m wondering what the bird was thinking ,
was it personal?
Did it smile ?
Was it a gift a reminder I’ll be back ?
Could he not wait .
Were his feathers singed and black ?
Did he fly up to
those blue skies soaring ,
unto the sun to find love ?
Was he hungry at the time ,
or had he just  eaten ?
for my tea is at the table ,
I fear it’s too late ?
Did the cruel winds just blow it off track ?
Was he fighting for freedom against the magpie or the jay ?
Did it see it’s reflection in my window ,
then fly away ?
For what ever reason ,
that bird still sings it’s song ,
first thing in the morning,
before the blackbird can sing along .
Before tea is set in my front room ,
I’ll still leave a knife and fork for thee ,
so he can sit along beside me and keep me company.

Then i heard a soft thud on my window ,
again again and again ,
the noise just would not stop .
I drew the curtain to one side ,
to see my bird against the Paine .
I opened my window,
and in it flew ,
for it was hungry just the same ,
pulled up a napkin and there we were ,
going insane.!

I. Am back wahoooooh thank you h p x

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 .
.

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

Butter scotch ,
Candy floss ,
the girls make jam tarts then eat them .

They feast on cream cakes ,
or what ever mother bakes ,
and pray the devil bird won’t eat them .
For Janet swings and sings ,
as the seat creeks and groans ,
all alone ,
before bed and home ,
she prays the devil bird won’t eat them .

So along comes Johnny who lost his lolly ,
he  always cries before tea ,
and loves to give Janet a push ,
so gently .
“ Harder Johnny harder ,
Push me up towards the skies “
“ I can’t push you any harder Janet ,
you might fall and graze you’re knee ?

“ Jam tarts floss butterscotch candy ,
Cream scones and chocolate cake ,
trifle and jelly ,
Come children time for tea “ .


Now Johnny went to look for his lolly which he had dropped upon the floor,
The sun heard a squawk ,
and flapping ,
afraid he hid behind a cloud .
Afraid to look ,
above all other things ,
the sun asked the cloud ,
who just couldn’t contain his sorrow ,
bursting dam ,
cracked open ,
like a skin fit to burst ,
came feeding time for the bird !

A swinging chair ,
alone in the air ,
creeped and swung less slowly ,
then stopped .
for tea time was over ,
and the children went out to play again .

And there it goes again sweet words into gate 52 fly fly away zzzzz
This will be saved 😫

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

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 .