Where the poison ivy grows ,
Inside the castles keep ,
where knights once fought ,
and maidens still weep .
It’s where the cows and the bulls now chew at its cud ,
and where weeds grow where i once made love .

It’s Where My Amices. sweet sorrows. abides ,
as Poison ivy grows where once her sweet waters flowed ,
Into the apple of her eye .

And so she will remember the day of my death ,
with a lock of my hair ,
and the memory of my breath .
a scarlet ribbon tied to her hair ,
to remind her of me ,
when I wasn’t there .

For this knight through unto battle he went ,
to face the Kings foe in the battle of Lament .

And even though a thousand would die by his side ,
it still wasn’t enough for her heart to reside .

And yes my battle was long and hard ,
and she just wept ,
when the swords and the arrows flew,
down upon my shield ,
yet mortal wounds they
they bled ,
and died ,
Just so she could be with me by my side .

But my quest for her heart as a true friend ,
was to end in sorrow ,
again and again .

And yes there were other truer knights that courted her hand ,
and I would die with my mace and a purple flower in my hands .

Though chivelry waits in my castle on high locked away ,
With dragons by her side .
Alas when my day is done ,
the black Knight will take away ,
The prize he hath won .

And with all the finest ribbons she could have bought in the fair ,
none should  be as dainty ,
none would be as rare ,
as the ribbon she held ,
when I lost her love ,
let it be said ,
in the battle of Lament ,
I fought valliently for ,
my love .
And so the sun will set ,
and let it never rise again ,
for darkness hath brazen ,
a nobeler friend .
and so here must it end
In sweetest sorrow ,
again and again ,
the purple flower fades
it’s memories are of no tomorrows ,
for in sweetest sorrow must end .
Good bye my friend .***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where the  river bends ,
and fishing boats were moored ,
for it is by these tranquil waters I have seen her walk .

Now There was a house apron a hill ,
Where the rich found time to mame and ****.
where the foxgloves lined up  all in a row .
Underneath there were fields
and meadows a glow .
Where men who owned but a farthing in rent ,
who toiled for their Lords ,
every day the good Lord sent .

And there was a river where I first met you ,
for you’re eyes were as bright as. the flowers in you’re basket ,
fragile and blue .
“ Tuppence a ha penny each one in bloom
There are fox gloves and roses ,
both picked for spring ,
and daffodils a plenty all singing in tune ,”

half way to paradise if i bought the moon
I thought to myself as I stood by you’re side .

But I wanted from you a flower so dainty and rare ,
tucked away in your basket ,
you were hoping I wouldn’t see it there .

“ Oh please not that one you said with a smile
That one I have set aside ,
You see the man who picks that flower ,
it is with him I must reside .
please buy from me  foxgloves or a rose ,
purple white or yellow and red ,
for there are so many “

So I bid her farewell
and off she went ,
to find her lover by the banks of the Afon Nedd .

And as I was walking away the men soon came ,
In search of a flower as rare as her name.

A stranger rode with his lover into town ,
to buy a flower of love .
For he heard long ago
from a place he didn’t know ,
that if you bought foxgloves and roses ,
from the Afron Nedd
You will end up in bed !


“ Oh won’t you buy this one sir I picked it just for you ?
for you are the one that makes my heart go boom ,
Up to castell  Nedd where the flowers are of violet , pink , and blue .”

“ But mame said the.man my wife wants th3 Roses and foxgloves
of love  not your dainty rare flower O heavens above .”

So now she goes rambling I have seen her alone ,
alone with her most precious flower all on her own .
Walking through the beacons alone and forlorn ,
when I take my horse a riding though fields and planes .

And I still love her dearly if she would just give me a chance ,
to pick that dainty flower ,
and unpick the lock on her heart .

If love is sweet and doth not decay ,
as your eyes turn to dew at the end of the day .


And the sweet lemon blossom is still in your hair
as the primrose in bloom ,
at appleberry fair . so perfect their apples all juicy and ripe ,
as you ruffle your feathers ,
as the wind catches the breeze ,
in the pure sunlight .

For as love conquers all it is all that I ask ,
for a bite of your apple at Appleberry fair .

Yet time is a dream and it won’t go away ,
as the soldiers march at the end of the day .

They came with their bayonnets  to bare and to hoist ,
to take you away at the sound of my voice.

And all I looked for in a girl so rare ,
was a taste of your apple ,
at Appleberry fair

I stand alone at my watch ,
amugst the howling winds and seas,
that have raged against this land .
Curupt this anchor held fast ,
for no autumble tide shall keep this watch ,
or seagulls in search of prey ,
circle  ancient mariners lost out at sea .



she whispers “ come “ .
I can hear her amid the seagulls call and the crashing of the waves .              
Is there  no lantern for me to burn so she might rescue me ?

And the rain it falls like sharpened iceicles that whip against my face ,
doth it sting my eyes and bring manacles for me to embrace ?


Yet in days I have waited ,
and the years have gone by ,
do I now stand here alone without hope ,
or a final goodbye?

This ship I await brings only hope to this land ,
of truth my fair maiden ,
out of loyalty grand .
It shall bring peace to this nation if not joy to my heart .
And when it’s anchor hits water should my soul ever depart ?
shortly not for though this waiting brings only sorrow to my eye ,
she still holds up a lantern to my sight ,
as the days have gone by .


My feet are not steady ,
should I stumble and fall ,
and yet I grow weary ,
should the reaper ever call ?


If these waves that are before me should ,
Swollow me hole ,
then my heart on wings must fly out to her
carried on a sceptre of gold .




how the swallow sings so sweetly ,
they pass me by in numbers as my fire burns cold .
For I ...

(. * waves and seagulls. can be heard *)

“. My darling my love “
she cradles me against the seas
“;a kiss as I lay dying ,
her dress ,
abandoned to the seas ,
her  heart cries out ,
as I lay dying .

My flower ,
my little crumb has sailed this stormy sea ,
and now I’m sad to say ,
she has to bury me.

blue flies and butterflies all dance unttill  they sing .
They  dance
around flowers and corpses ,                                                                ­   flies and kings.
One feeds in palaces gorges on beef deer and game ,
the other on corpses from great victories all in the kings name .

Yet the butterflies see all these things ,
the dead and the dying ,
the gold and silver of kings .
And think nothing of either flying and fluttering on beautiful wings .

The man who has nothing left to beg for food in the street ,
the philosopher at a coffee shop who eats and eats and eats .

Yet the butterfly and the blue flies both feast on each one ,
What ever man has left over ,
Is what man has become .

For all his wealth and power ,
his riches and his fame .
His ever constant struggle
to feed his starving children
don’t go hungry in their shame .

And still the blue flies and butterflies feed off what we leave
Behind ,
Oblivious to our struggles ,
Oblivious to our wealth
they wear pin stripe suits ,
and-ball room gowns .
To every ball that’s swinging in town .
Under. blood red skies and battle grounds ,
too feed off all the rotting flesh ,
that man cut down

For As life goes on ,
we bleed ,
and
die .
and so
the insects
begin to dance
and sing ,
And fly .

If  I could  see you just once more time ,
without you’re  name in stone ,
or marble images all in white .
Without the hosts of the starry nights ,
a pilgrims life times work,
written under moonlight night ,
In a time we could call own own .

Then If roses bloom to no avail ,
then weep and wilt because you’re blossoms fail ,                                      then  I should employ  a thousand minstrels to dance and sing .
then  they will be enough to raise you from your sleep
, for evermore ?

So cold you lay ,
so peaceful now ,
Yet my rose shall wilt and die .

Then so beit  
If my fingers blessed they  bleed against your stone ,
under your blood red sky .
For at least it will be a reminder that I am not alone.
Then you ****** my blood into your mouth ,
my hair you gently caressed
as ours eyes met
as red as the sky’s dying light ,
under your naked breast .
As red as the rose I once gave to you it
shall bloom again once more .


And as I turned to walk away ,
i heard your voice again ,
“ Come quick whilst the skies are still red ,
come quick and don’t delay “
come and make these rose petals for our bed ,
for this night let it be said
will be forever and a day “

‘ And yes my roses are still red ,
and every night they bloom ,
a stone cold carcus for a bed ,
where  thistle and **** grow undisturbed around
her white marble statue ,
underneath where rose petals lay ,
can still be visible to this day .

There was once a man who lived alone ,
he didn't laugh ,
he didn't moan,
the only person that he saw ,
was a young man ,
who brought blackcurrants and jam to his door.
And when he did ,
the lonely man who just loved jam,
stuck his ***** fingers in ,
and licked the jam jar dry ,
which he had shared with his charming little guests .
So he sat down on a stone ,
to play the lute on his own ,
to charm his new friends with their dainty colourful wings
from the skies,
to end up in his fruitfly pies .

So to the forest the young couple did go ,
to hear his sad tale of lament ,
Which they had heard from their mansion
on the hill ,
where blackberries grow ,
and are there to this day even still.

For the trees felt very different
when the lute sings along ,
when the trees and their branches
give out their songs .
For the trees when the different seasons came ,
and went ,
turned to amber ,
and then to red ,
before the winter came .

And so the young lady who made blackberry jam ,
gave it to her lover ,
but he thought it vile ,
and took it far away,
to a door he had never seen before ,
covered in moss and ivy .
And he never said a word ,
and that is why they never ate supper.

And all that was left was blackberry jam in
the form of a man .
And all that was left was a fine sticky mess
after the flies had jam and butter
and  had finished their blackberry supper .

So off they all went ,
to the house with a blackberry bush ,
to sell to the lady ,
who.had purple stains on her dress ,
who always tried to look her best ,
who tried not to swallow,
because they said they would be back tomorrow.

“ Oh sun “ said the. Moon “ who’s radiant beam is thy crown ,
surrounded by mountains and hills all around .
In daylight the flowers yearn for your rays ,
by night they are shrouded only by days.”

As the moon looked down on the earth
Just waiting to shine ,
all alone in the darkness abiding his time .


“Oh moon “ said the sun
“You are shrouded by day ,
but sometimes in the morning
I can still catch a glimpse of you’re rays “

“ What a tease you are said the moon to the sun ,
for when my night time is over ,
you’re day has begun.

But one day we will eclipse with each other ,
and turn their world into night ,
and there will be no more sunshine or what they call light .
and we will give the earthlings a terrible fright .”


By these words when the sun drew too close ,
when they were talking to their heavenly hosts .

But the sun soon realised there was nothing special about her friend
for the sunlight she gave him soon came to an end .
And so ,
the sun became sad
When moon turned away ,
for the only time the moon could be happy
Was when he reflected her gaze .

Then in one glorious moment they became one ,
The sun with the moon ,
The moon with the sun ,
and we on earth gazed up first in wonderment, and then in fear .
For we realised for the first time .
something terrible was about to happen down here .

I might be dead tomorrow
Then where would we be ?
Would  you
still
dance a tango ,
in Paris
under a full moon with me ?
Or would you watch from afar
Still
clutching the wet bedsheets
Where my stiff corpse once lay ,
soaked with you’re tears somewhere far away ?
For I am in love with you ,
where ever you are .

And if by the morning sun rising should be shot down by a star ,
Beit near  beit far ,
I will still be in  you’re loving arms where ever you are .

And if that same moon should rise again
beit the half shadow sunlight that. somewhere lies half hidden in you’re eyes ,
then a waltz we shall dance
Untill the fog has parted ,
or the roses
are red ,
and a warm comforting sunlight
arises from our bed .

I returned home from work one day ,
went to bed and here I lay ,
in my own room without a friend ,
to say good night ,
when will it ever end ?
And so to the bad ,
the great and the good ,

the whispering of the years ,
the misunderstood .
For the black bird still sings it’s merry tunes before dawn,
as i lie alone in my bed ,
thankful for all the years ..
They captivate me still ,
the snow drop yet to bud ,
the red ant who keeps a home for the stomaphis beneath the bark of an old oak tree ,
as my saviour keeps a place for me .
No woman have I held dear ,
her gentle touch when death is near ,
no whispers in my ear .

But I have seen luminous lights light up the beach as if it were day ,
and monsters of iron ,
giving out their steam ,
acuducts and tunnels built by mans own dream ,
Yet I have lived and has it not been grand ?

Still pity the man who has no hope ,
nothing to cling to when life becomes a joke ,
Who works and dies to what a cost ,
he has never seen Gods promises ,
and it is in them do I have my hope ..

If love could fly on silver wings ,
pull fluffy hearts on silver strings

And no dark black clouds could shooo them away ,
and we could live on marshmallow hills ,
sprout silver wings ,
and fly away .

But there is a cold bitter wind in September ,
and the green turns to yellow in the trees ,
for that is when the harvester comes ,
to blow away the leaves .

And you and I won’t matter ,
at least that is what you said ,
but There is a cold wind in September ,
and  it’s freezing in our bed .

Only the Angels stole our wings
from us when we
we’re flying high ,
and those marshmallow hills now seem far away in the sky .
and our silver strings got caught up in our Mandalay ,
and now we have been   left  , strung up    in  the   clouds .

Now here we are ,
all caught up in strings ,
with fluffy hearts ,
and   no diamond rings ,
waiting for the stars to shine ,
Suspended in love ,
forgotten  in time .

I looked on from where we stood ,
beyond the cross and our sense of brother hood .
Beyond the suns rays  that shone on down ,
past mans diety it’s earthly crown .

On to fields so far away ,
where poppies lie still today .
Where brave men fell unto their knees ,
no pomp there is at this dark hour ,
alone our thoughts should mortal dwell .?

Or of Christ Jesus death upon a cross ,
for never was there such a greater loss ,
the sacrifice he gave so man might live beyond our days .

So as the green grass turned to black ,
then red ,
the suns bright glow left a golden bed ,
and a golden stairs on which to climb ,
Up the stairs for the final time .
Close the gate tight shut ,
for Daddy’s come home for lunch .

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

From such madness then should I appear ,
bound in sorrows darkest fear ,
that in my judgment I brought forth thy name ,
forever to be held in chains .
To cast thy shadows from my pen ,
that I should never subscribe again
Fortunes of a lesser god that idolatry breeds
In pits of blood .
That man might in fists of rage
Beat his head ceaselessly against a cage
as flies in mortal days are spent
above the excrement man has left ,
that man might forever be ,
Spent bound in sins dark adultery.

Today has gone ,
we lived it well ,
with all its sorrows ,
we can live to amend .

And so a poem lead to one two and three .
and I said hello .
For now today is over ,
and we must all learn to write again .

And so it’s been four years since I said hello ,
and my poems I write you love to follow me there .

There was a dolls house down my lane ,,
where dolls were mended and restored  just the same ,
as when I looked in wonder through a door ,
with all the other children who had gone before .

Now my broken Belinda had many faults ,
she didn’t scream ,
and she didn’t shout ,
and when I wound her up ,
She didn’t move ,
or play hopscotch with my other toys .
She just sat at the end of my room looking quite upset ,
and sometimes very annoyed .

But dr Archibald was very kind ,

he restored  my doll at no expense .
He wound her up ,
and she began to speak out loud ,
to play hopscotch with the bears and the other crowd ,
who couldn’t talk ,
Or move ,
or shout .

And poor Belinda soon was all alone ,
with no one to talk to ,
She sat by herself at the foot of the stairs ,
where all the other toys poked and stared .

Untill one day a charming ted ,
with buttons as bright as his shiny new vest ,
Who was charmed by her “ I’m Belinda ha ha ha “ s
and they sped away in his flashy new car ,
around and around my bedroom they went .
Untill one day they were sent underneath the stairs ,
into a room I never went .
Alone in th3 darkness ,
they are to this day ,
dreaming of the days ,
when they both sped away .

I found the birds circling above an ancient stone ,
as the skies were gettin darker ,
their. clouds  once blue now crimson and black in colour .

Alas  the birds didn’t make a sound ,
they didn’t swoop down ,or croak , or . Caw  !                                          Yet I was transfixed by what I saw ,
and so  my bones were broken  without number .
I fell unto the ground ,
and I prayed to God if I should should not see out this day ,
at least if they be scattered to the four corners of the earth
Should they ever be found ? .

That beast or man might not find them ,
or dig them up from the ground ,
or birds of prey scavage or use them for nests ,
then fly away .





Then I saw four creatures circling above the earth ,
with the moon and the sun,
along with billions of stars all rolled into one .,


Twas Then I saw a stone which had stood before man could even count ,
and so I began to wunder,
what it was all about ?
no clue to where  it came from ,
but burrowed in its heart ,
a name ...
A name from before even time began ,
before the earth could speak

A timeless treasure that always stood before the world began .

So then I returned to my body as my spirit had not yet given up my
Fight  to live ,
to ponder on what I had seen ,
a darkness far greater yet ,
more darker than  my eyes had ever met .

But darkness in all its brooding forms. Could  never cast its spell ,
and that which stood before me was on its way to hell .


And so I found the four compasses of the earth ,
and anchored them in  seas unchartered depths
so I tried to navigate before the sun the moon and the stars .

But God who’s good shepherd would never lead me astray ,
In open seas he brought me back from where I lay .

with thirty pieces of silver ,
and a cross of Roman wood ,
‘‘twas before a brightest light ,
that shone without darkness ,
a name which is Christ the Lord ,
is so often misunderstood.
In stone it now stands before me ,
where beneath no grave can lay ,
a corner stone of heaven that won’t ever see decay .

In a field of pure delight I watched the leaves ,
lifted by the wind ,
dance !
Like girls with daisies in their hair ,
held hands without due care ,
run around their play ground ,
laughing and shouting.
Faster they run ,
round and around ,
untill like leaves they fell to the ground .
As the wind died ,
then picked up again ,
the leaves took to flight and the girls danced again .
Untill scattered to all corners of a field ,
whistling,
howling
chased by boys ,
who stole their dolls away ,
like dogs in a field let off their leash ,
in the middle of the day .
Then  just like leaves ,
to the tolling of a bell ,
were swept inside ,
never ,
to be seen again .

Where ever the wind doth blow ,
it is there my heart shall be
buffeted by the stormy seas ,
the hail stones that sting my skin ,
yet into you’re open arms am I born ,
saved by the midshipman’s tolling bell .

But the mothers love is not like mine ,
a gift from God own store of love .

For she holds her child in sweet regard,
a mothers love wrapped up in a shaul ,
her infant child her gift to all .

And blessed lest we don’t forget the mother who’s child does not
Scream .
to angels born before their time ,
on silver stars and distant dreams
For these  mothers there are no schooling days or toys to buy ,
just bedside prayers and
an emptiness where once such joy layed ,
an empty cot ,
and cuddly toys that hang motionless from the ceiling .

The poets dream
Is to gaze in wonderment at fields unseen
and to be inspired by what he has seen,
in every rain drop ,
and tear that departs ,
inspired by a falling heart.
In every rock that blocks our way,
to more happier and forfilling days
to become more jagged and rough then we were before ,
yet pure .

And as that field of green grows white with snow and with every starry night ,
that violates nature’s vibrant glow
that one day soon
It might. Become ripened by the rains and sun
blossom and become fruitful
again. as one.

There was no love in their eyes ,
no hope for mans .
Curdled in death ,
there is nowhere for mankind to begin.

No love or kindly thoughts ,
no sacrament for sin ,
not even a burnt offering so we could begin .

And we would all  if our eyes blinded by the snow ,
the peasant found nowhere to go ,
The thief who starving and cold stole a carcus of beef for his wife ,
yet  did not find sanctuary from the church in broad day light .

So we work to pay our debtors for what we have built ,
and drink ,
and drink ,
and drink .
To fill our nights with  rude drunken songs ,
and tell ourselves that’s where we belong .
For if man is evil than God is love ,
for he doth not look on man from above ,
and pity our souls before opening the bin ,
but sent Christ Jesus ,
as a babe just so we could begin.

I know when it’s time to write ,
for when the starlings murumting rise and fall ,
and rise ,
then fall ,
then fall ,
and fall ,
their light skeletons frail ,
In many numbers they never found their wings ,
found dead upon the gravel.
So the bird who has no shame swooped for his prey all the same ,
for down down did it lay ,
then up to a blue yonder .

As for us the sun will rise as we fly to bluer skies than sapplings wither and more will die ,
as we as birds must rise and fall ,
then rise ,
and find Gods rest as we retreat from the worlds thistle and worm.

So as the rabbit must flee from his Michelin chef ,
so must we from his rabbit stew ,
and burrow our way to pastures new ,
to a greener yonder .

They came in their droves to remember their  dead ,
the fallen ,
the lives they had lead .
Taken away by a shell to what the cost ?
Innocent lives on their way to hell !

The battle field ,

the mortal dead ,
to live forever in our heads .

To what the cost where freedom lives ,
Our right to walk when we dared not live !

Bereft our watch at the garden gate ,
Daddy’s only running late ,
he’s gone to war ,
be back for tea ,
Bereft the watch that dos’nt bother me !

So the skies darkened clouds stayed away today ,
as if to salute those that had fallen some sunny day ,
where poppies lay ,
In green fields far away .
Those who limbs were blown to kingdom come ,
for the children they will never see ,
before them lies immortality .

For those who did not make it back ,
Who won’t stand in terraces to chear their team ,
to roll cigarette papers and tell their ***** jokes ,
for them the mortal screams .

And now her letters lie forgotten not read ,
forever in a draw underneath her bed .

But Daddy will be home soon she still says to her kids ,
he’s gone to war ,
he will be back for tea ,
You just wait and see .

Ashford s crowds who had gathered to wait two minutes to remember the brave ,
walked their dogs ,
drank plenty of tea ,
and paused their busy lives to Remember thee .
Returned home ,
Shut the gate ,
to remember Joe who just ,
came home late .

He pulls a Cadaver behind him on a cart
full of bones
with only a lantern to guide him                                                             as as Shame and sorrow are holding pitch forks and ropes .
On dark  cobbold streets made of stone ,
his dark arts of brutality and bone .

But For this love he would give the heart of this man ,
who once walked these streets with purse strings in hand ,
For now his bones are all accounted for in the price they might fetch .
Each counted seperatly and left on a shelf .

A for a few shillings more and  a great deal of wealth ,
A crypt for the dying
a statue of stone,
for their wealth .



Four Silver bells he would ring ,
just before tea
as their servants made room for his lady and me .
and placed before us a banquet of meat ,
that no one was ever  quite sure ,
Where it was from ,
but  was always a treat .

And every night the clock struck ten ,
With sorrow and shame ,
he would leave again ,
with Four silver bells this time ,
just to make sure
to leave one inside ,
for the rich and the poor .
For every corpse has his bride
and if she dos’nt ring ,
a ting a ling ling ,
he will be out digging once more ,
that is for sure .

Amy was flying high ,
she met her man in June ,
and fell in love ,
to a squadron leader ,
their nights were full of laughter ,
and drinking for ever after .
and she was so in love with him .
and him with her life was so enchanting.

A house with a garden together .
they planned to settle down ,
when the war was over a semi somewhere in some surburban  town .
With a garden and gate ,
when he says “ I won’t be home late ‘ .
where birds will sing some rag time tune ,
when we made love beneath a cherry tree one sunday afternoon.

So one night there was no call ,
not a word from him did she hear .
She reved her engine to see if she could see her lover was near ?

Looking down the airfield Amy noticed his spitfire wasn’t there ,
she feared the worst as she landed,
and ran to a phone booth and made her call there .
The call was cut short
Amy sunk to her knees ,
the phone dangled above her auburn hair .


Two lovers flying high on their honeymoon,
Flying past the white cliffs of Dover ,
on a sunny afternoon
Two spitfires tailgating together heading for the moon .

A spider now hangs from my wall ,
it bears no malice to me at all .
And if I were to ask if why it was here ?
It would simply reply ,
“:I’m just hanging there “:

But what about that web .? Said i ,
The spider didn’t have a reply .

But later on I spoke to a fly who was watching me eat my lunch ,
from the corner of his eye .

Now i was afraid to ask ,
for nothing seems to ever last .
So I asked the window with the creaky catch ,
was the spider that crawled inside have a ***** look ?.
or was the fly just passing by ?

So when the fly had stopped buzzing about ,
It ate my lunch

and spat it out ,
Then it It turned its attention to the spider on my wall ,
“ won’t you come to my web and we will have a ball ?
“ it said .
which was unusual to say the least for spiders can’t speak ,
or at least that’s what I used to think ?

But then I saw  a startling sight ,
that love really is bite at first sight !

I gave you flowers ,
and you spat in my face ,
you cussed untill I could take it no more .
But still there was something that told me you still love me so .
For your hair was ruffled ,
and you had too much to drink ,
now what was I surposed to think ?

Now Would it bide me some time ,
with all its horses ,
Carrages and fine wine
Porcelaine figurerines in gardens so rare
If I offered these things for you to ****** my hair.                                    Roaring  fires when you return from the snow
So I could warm your dainty feet when ever they get cold .

All these things I would give unto you ,
for a moment of your time ,
and a kiss from me to you .
On your cheek if that’s alright by you ,
then on your lips if I could only unbridle you.

For the four winds of love to summon you ,
To bridle your passions on hot summer nights ,
To feel your warm touch of your delicate thighs.

For where the two lovers roam I shall take you there,
far away where nothing dies ,
no dreams of loves begotten by pride .

So if you said yes to these which I adore ,
then greet me with flowers when we meet down by the shore

“. Oh I will greet you with flowers ,
and let me bring the wine ,
I shall ****** your hair and have a good time ,
and when we have had too much to drink ,
we shall bid our farewells
with the gulls of the sea ,
will wash away what memories you ever had of me .

my words are lost .
they cant be found ,
lost ambiguas to the ground .
In silent thoughts some profound ,
my words drift far away ,
never to be found .

For in merrinent they dance above my head in letters and pros that are left
unread .
So please write down in pen and ink
those thoughts in the night that cannot
speak,
that drift away as  if you dream ,
in multicoloured stars unseen .

And when you wake at  three a m
to silent thoughts begin again  ,
the words you lost that you  will never
find ,
lost forever in your mind

A young mother and her young daughter cuddled  together where they lay .
The  mother held her daughter tight ,
  Shivering on this perolus  night .
As the cabin lights went out ,
and sea water slowly ,
slowly moved above their mouths ,
then heads ,
they drowned .

Outside the clear skies hid not one star from their eyes ,
as Angels beckoned their souls this night ,
below whistles and the sound of oars paddling away ,
they looked down ,
onto souls that reached for the skies ,
Instead of their bodies drifting out to sea.
And so  with a mighty wrench as if the ship ,
was saying her final goodbye .
With  all its marble stair cases and fine dinning rooms ,
and the thousands left ,
like them would rise.

Caught in angels wings ,
not for them the Carpathia awaits ,
that is not their happy fate !

Two dolls tossed apon the waves ,
but that is all that could be seen ,
from what man said God could not sink,
lies vanished beneath the waves .

And so the Angels played their trumpet sounds ,
and Glory reigned all around ,
That Jesus Christ the one they slayed ,
has now risen from the grave .

And so an Angel post ,
on where death could not boast ,
a cross of wood could not hold ,
or a spear of water and blood ,
betell   our risen King.

So  the women came with ointments and balm ,
were left speechless for their loss ,
an Angel tells them at what cost,
“ why seek out the living amugst the dead.
That Jesus Christ has risen .

For his bones God made out of silver ,
for his bones God made out of gold ,
but in these most beautiful treasures
There was nothing he could hold .

So he sort out the bones of the dead .

But these bones were made of marrow ,
so he left them on a shelf ,
and bartered for their silver ,
and stole for their wealth ,
and kept some for his sorrow .

But all he really wanted ,
was a woman he could hold.
for a heart that was as pure
as the love he could not
hold

So he died with tears falling
for a love he could not keep ,
so many tears falling ,
he could count them in his
Sleep .

O boundless love  that has no framework  of time ,
who’s love has no boundaries.
Who in cloudless skies floats

then
falls
and. then  rises
and drifts  for miles
where heavenly dew drops fall ,
and are lifted up just as the sun is about to rise ,
then fall ,
and rise .
And  in doing so rest
upon garlands of radiant flowers ,
far beneath

that reach up to the sky’s like heavenly towers ,
before our eyes.

Then I felt no sky or earth sea or land ,
far above me ,
or down below .
yet I could see for miles ,
yet no mountains or streams lay before my eyes

or above ,
or below .
to fall or rise ,
and rise and fall ,
and flow,
Just the warm basking love in her beautiful  eyes .
And as i looked up
and saw
the murmering of trees catching  the wind .

And so we ate pork and ham and cheese ,
and Mrs Beetons sweet puffed pastry treats ,
until there was nothing left to eat .
before butterflies and daisies ,
wild dandelions and bees.




And somewhere in the distance a castle awaits ,
with its towers moats turrets and gates .
And we ran up that hill
so fast we could fly ,
to look down where others had failed ,
and suffered from boiling  oils and being impaled
Then we sprouted wings as if to fly like Agemeneons in the sky
far above those moats and castle keeps ,
far above way up high ,
to set candles alight in the skies

And so to rest my tired eyes on hills far away from my battle cries ,
where  love and hope their pastures rise ,
and so to sleep and rest my case ,
the fall of man their human race ,
that life should be but twice the pace ,
that my dreams whenst I awake
should ever be fortold ?
A porpers tale  that i should take a crumb of bread from my masters plate

For my bones are tired , and the birds that once found their nests     
in my ribs  
have Taken to flight a long time ago .
And  so ,
now rats naw on my morbid friend ,
and nettle and daisy are my corpses new. guests
to reclaim what man once called his own ,
that man should be but skin and bone!



For grave lies cold it’s chambers bare ,
but alas I have a saviour who does not lie here ,
where decay and rotting flesh may not be found ,
somewhere with mansions built on holy ground .

Somewhere far away from this place for when my body with rigomortis lie ,
and underground catacombs their corpes still!
unmoved unbowed unto this earths decaying will .

And soon the ground in which I lay will be built apon
in brick and hay ,
and I shall be forgotten one sunny day ,
And aye I cast my cap to him a porper  bring a crown to honour
My heavenly King

Love is like  a flake of snow that falls gently  from the skies ,
and dissapears before you’r  very  eyes .
For it was never meant to last ,
like morning due on a blade of grass.

Yet How sweet the tulips song in spring that dances on a song birds wing ,
and disappears in the falling rains
from  where the black butterflies and Gobolix  came .

Where Deep in the forests there’s is  a bridge of dreams
Where everything isn’t always what it seems .

Where love is all ******* in a bow ,
with forever hearts,
and a lovin glow .
For It is a place you don’t want to go .

For when the  black butterflies clouds  the skies ,
for they will one day drain the colour from you’re eyes .
For Gobolix   have wings that fly
and Steal dreams from every sun lit sky ,
and from any lovers walking, by drawing shapes of hearts
in the sand .


For if you see one with flashing tail ,,
and searing eyes
as  the zephyr   start to howl and
and the winds start to wail ,
and the rains begin to spit venom as if
from a cage .

For one day  the due will pass ,
for it was never , meant to last .

But if it does  and you see no fear ,
then Hold fast to love ,
My dear ,
for then you will know the gobolix
Is forever near .

Beware the flight of the black gull ,
It’s wings are not broken ,
it hasn’t food to eat ,
yet lies in far reaches of our mind could ever reach .

It’s shadows await me ,
It’s beak is strong ,
It hunts when I am tired of being alone so long .

It sees my indifference no thoughts of its own ,
if evil awaits me I shudder then sleep .
A thought for the dying ,
life is better than hell .

Seen through blinding sorrow ,
don’t pity my pain ,
for I sort it and craved it for tomorrow,
for now it’s going to rain .

For the black gull swoops to pluck eyes from its prey ,
a prayer for the dying it will never go away .

So when I am good ,
It still looks down ,
when I am away from it’s shadows ,
It’s always around .
i Look up one slip ,
and I’m gone !

Lost my poem oh what a shame ,
and now it’s time to start again ?
For if you find it sing it a song ,
for what I’m doing won’t take long

As we walked I wondered if this Avenue of trees ,
where birds of paradise were lined in cages hung amgst the leaves ,
as far as the eye could  see .
Is that what you think of me ?
That love we share ,
In birds so rare ? said I
“ My darling don’t arose love “ she said
for these things are for heavenly creatures,
such things are not meant for me
for I am a creature of the dead “
and with that she shrugged her head .
“ But I do love you and that’s with all my heart
and if that were true in what you said .
Then Why does my heart leap like a young buck before a small bud
can reach  the sun ?





That is when the dark heavens awoke,
to thick dark clouds ,
and puffs of smoke ,
Where nothing would ever be the same .
Thou lighting bolts from heaven called out her name.

Lucinda I weep for you “
as  the might oak was split in two ,
It’s bark burns in  front of you Lucinda ..
as Men and women arise from where they slept .
and thunder bolts of dazzling ray ,
With a smell of death from beneath my belly wails ,
as she walked away .

And my walls of stone have been brought down ,
they lay before me on the ground .

And where is the sun ?
the moon and the stars ?
How the loved ones gazed apon.

their dazzling array .
and the sun by day ,
for they have vanished from our sight ,
thou it be the dead of night .

For the corn is wet and no good to eat ,
all ruined in this Bog of peat .

Yet I walk and must never stop ,
bid it not this journey must end .

Make haste that I should find my friend .
Are you there is that you ?
a horse and cart I meet along my way ,
but they are in great haste and don’t delay
The kings post must not be late “


The birds are circling far above ,
a young Buck that once bound and  lept  for love
now lies dead in a field of mud.

And I grew weary when will this end ,
to walk alone without my friend .?

So I looked out into the yonder road
and yet I did not see her ,
not now ,
not then ,
not ever again ?  .

Her black wings of sorrow started to sprout from the muscles on her back ,
all laden with their sorrow
for she cant find a way back
The sins  of those who taunt her ,
with their loveless evil ways
for on this dark and terrible night .,
It feels they will stay with her always ?
For heavenly sorrow is her name ,
for she weeps for those who only have themselves to blame ..

So terrible are her sufferings she can bear their guilt no more ,
alone she now lies dying for she can’t find a cure .

For The black raven is her judgement ,
he holds a Sceptre  in his beak ,
above there lies an Angel ,
that once God turned to stone .
Who  once led the heavenly choirs ,
Whome. God banished from his heavenly throne .

For it is with black wings she sings ,
but never speaks .
“ soon you’re judgement will be O
It won’t take very long
and  no words will you speak ,
for now worms will crawl
from out of your belly
and come out of you’re beak !




So can anything now save her from this dark and
terrible fate ?

Then flew in a sparrow who saw watching from afar ,
said “:I will take your fallen wings and hang  them on a star .”

And the raven and the angel with black wings flew away ,
they  fled unto the tower ,
and had nothing more to say .

And the girl still goes horse riding ,
where the angel and raven fled ,
and looks up. longingly  to a loop hole
Just to make sure that bird is being fed .

     “ But I want to talk to you of things that are immortal ,
        and things that are free ,
          so as you hanker over your sin and sorrow
        don’t you ever bother me “
         said the sparrow ,
          who was chirping from a tree .

On a Chariot she rides
With love and beauty by her side ,
Sworn to rid this world of sin ,
so love and beauty might enter in .

Devout in her glorious deeds ,
though evil stands ,before her,  ride . ,with sharped claw,
she comes face to face before ,their gods ,of war .
Of those who pedal bigotry  and hate ,
for even they will be slain ,
by the nostrils of Bodicas horses and fiery Maine



For she who rides with beauty and love ,
fights   In valour
for the silver glove .
and with the heart of a sufferget. that is sure .
For every woman who feels oppressed .
To rid this world from It’s dark nights or vice ,
and ****** .
Never again to be afraid to walk the streets at night
through twilight dances in the gas fire light .



And so with lances that glisten and torches that burn
to oust what man once called his slave .
For her Lance is called justice ,
and from her torch integrity burns for
many who are forced to work in chains .
to rue the errors of their ways .

Never again able to read or write ,

wear beautiful garments paraded in their most beautiful light .
So please don’t fear ,
thou deaths claw may soon come swiftly to knock at youre door

For she still rides in glory,
Once ,
and ever more .

I yes I betrayed him where he knelt ,
alone when he thought he was not by himself .

I betrayed the one I love ,
more than the things I know I love .
More than anything I think I own ,
my mind ,
my self ,
my mortal throne .

I betrayed him I know not why ,
Perhaps it was the golden carpet stairs ,
that lead me to on high ?
For I have always been afraid of heights ,
especially ones with that are so bright !

For broken vessels do I own ,
no not I but in Christ alone .

I betrayed though I know not why ?
For such intense questions usually pass me by .

For he was in his deepest need ,
the hour had come ,
and all my needs for sleep and rest ,
underneath this unearthly night .

How would I know what morning would bring ?
a **** crowing ,
oh he knew it all ,
and so ,
that was so many years ago .
Put back together like broken pots ,
like  his death upon a cross ,
will one day be made whole ,
in Jesus name do we own .

I once saw a bird of paradise. that was  as wild as the sea ,
spreading out
her wings towards you and me .
Oceans as wild as an eagle who kills ,
who Stole all her eggs
and took all of her things .


Yet her heart is as wild as the seas she adores ,
Like  spring has its time before the courts of the Lord .
So delicate and fragile ,
sometimes as rugged as the sea ,
yet always patient,
and kind as can be .

And if love can bear all. these  things ,
like losing a Son ,
to bury a red rose ,
before the rain and the sun ,
and then
To nourish that soil with the bones of the dead ,
So that red rose might blossom and grow in its bed .

Then let death have its glory ,
It’s herses and horses ,
Flowers and wreaths ,
as man is laid to rest ,by the
words of a priest .  

So then let God be our judge,
Our attorney ,our friend
as five stones are enough
to lay to rest the thoughts in our heads .
and all the things that we have said .
Beit Our words and our deeds ,
Our friends we betrayed,
all will be seasoned with herbs ,
and the leaves ,
and what is left will be gathered into one ,
and burnt under the sun .

And love in the end beit a stone or a cross ,
a flower will grow out from its weeds ,
to remember the lost .

I found myself once of desolate shores where the cliffs and rocks ,
found high  in their mountainous peaks ,
that once battered against the shore.,
thousands of years before ,
eroded against where the seagulls nest .
Far away from where ainchent city’s once fought,
but now found rest .

All of what’s left of them are statues of marble eroded by the sea .
once decorated in beautiful ornate colours grinded out of stone .
now left abandoned ,
alone .

And as I walked I came across a cliff ,
where seagulls flew far away from this land ,
to distant shores they took hold of the winds ,
and so I thought what a marvellous thing .
If I could fly just like them ,
Sumon up the power of gods not men ?

But as  I spread my wings ,
and I did not fly ,
instead my wings
Plummeted down from the skies ,
to die .

Where ainchent worlds once had lived
we’re now lost in sandstone marbel and grit .
And I saw various colours of small fish as I fell ,
deep down below where the waters swell .

And so I began to wish that I was up there ,
In the clean blue heavenly clouds  ,
somewhere where heavenly voices can be found .

But alas my wings now we’re to fail ,
for not even Zeus with all his power could ,
Make my wings go any higher .
and I forgot how to swim like a fish in the sky ,
or even down below .
How foolish to think that I  in such a brief time ,
I could lose my life ,
In a blink of an eye.
A
And so I lost my will to live ,
and death took hold of me with its icey grip ,
so I drifted as if for days ,
deep into my yonder grave.
Far away from the fish I had seen ,
or sunken vessels that were once king of the seas .
Somewhere I didn’t want to be .
Yet in the vastness of the seas above ,
I found nothing here ,
not even love .

One evening when the lights were still
bright  and shiney bawballs that dangled
and  had once clung on for dear life,
now started to fall .
one by one  .
then the elphs and the nymphs  !   ,
one and all .
they knew the end had begun. .
The pixies fled to the four corners of the wood  ,
along with the fairys who were upto no good !
For even the angel who sat on the tree
saw from far away what was to be ,
the creeping darkness on this twelth night opened its mouth to swollow
them whole !

so The Angel spread her wings of light
and devised a plan for only one could
be queen of this land .


And so the night put up a fight
as the harpie stole souls that were
not hers by right ,

before she was vanquest by  her hand
and sent back to never never land
and when the centaur and spinx
had fled the kind angel said
whos next ?
And so the clown that slumped against a tree just laughted and laughed,
then when his head fell off
he laughted even more ,
even though his head was on the floor .
Then when his arms fell off he laughted some more .
Untill his insides split and everything ended
up on the floor .,
and so he laughted some more .
So mother said put your toys away that tree has to come down today .

my twin in the mirror didst I see standing alone in front of me ?
a shattered piece of glass ,
taken from a piece of art .

But if that piece of shattered glass wasn’t me ,
than who on earth could it be ?

I gazed upon its reflection still
and pondered who and why ,
could this be ,
forever looking back at me ?
For if that glass wasn’t me ,
a stranger then must he be ?

And if I had seen my reflection still ,
a shard of glass ,
from which my
blood should pour Untill it fills my kitchen floor .

And if i saw my reflection still ,
a man before me so pale and ill.


And so.i. took a boat to row across a lake ,
and staring back was the man I saw ,
In the waters but not as he was before .
I smiled at him ,
and he smiled back at me ,
could this be my twin ,
Staring back at me ?

And as i rowed there came a thick pea fog ,
and the lake felt like a soup ,
then came the mud
and then came a thud !
And on that island I fell in love with the moon ,
her beauty shone down ,
and showed me in her fairest light .
And so now and again her beauty would fade ,
and cast me back to my darker days .

And i never again saw the man who stared back at me ,
and to this day ,
I can never figure out how this could be ?
Untill one night staring back at me ,
did I see my own reflection in the sea.

I have left a love note for you found in a book bound in blue
Found in pages torn and brown ,
left on a shelf just for you .

And if you find the words I wrote ,
cant hold back the tears ,
as you begin to choke .
as you begin to wipe a tear from you’re eye .

And if you find my words   ,lost in a moment ,
trapped in time ,
all  bound in blue ,
all neatly ******* in a package just for you .

A love token of my deepest regret ,
of how we did not kiss when we first met .

But now my words have long since passed ,
and I thought I would write them down ,
just by chance .
That you might one day pick up in a book ,
that I wrote in corn flower blue ,
a note in the back ,

that it one day might remind me of
You .To my forever darling
Corn flower blue .

My  grave is where I dig each night ,
above me hangs one gas. fire light

But if love was ever meant to be ,
It wouldn’t be for the likes of you and me
and when i think of what i once owned ,
was nothing but a butterfly.

And if that butterfly had wings ,  in all my hopes ,
fears and dreams .

And if those dreams turned to flowers,
that wither and die ,
but still last for hours,
and as those hours pass ,
at the bottom of a
hour glass .

And if those hours turned into days ,
perhaps then that might save me from this grave ?

But days were never meant to last ,
and one day they will become a thing of the past .
And so in my digging I came across a fly ,

and that fly was trapped by a  web ,
and in that web a spider lay which was eaten by
a bird in May,
and the birds then flapped their tiny  wings
and got eaten by a cat who did naughty things ,
Who scratched the dog
who chased the cat that ran around and around
my neighbors flat .

And so it began as if for days ,
The never ending ceaseless din of praise .
that in this world nothing ever wins ,
and all must one day be taken up ,
beyond this grave ,
Or  get swollowed up,
by a giant whale
And so , as moths gather around a fire ,
and a  fisherman mends his nets ,
catching fish ,
only to save them from an open fire .

Earthly  shadows fell
as  black clouds in slow procession started to meander
across the sky ,
as  grave yard  tombs started to cover  my eyes ,
the moment you’re presence left my  bed .

For you’re love for me that which once lit up my  skies
in radiant colours of you and I ,
a furnace that once set the moon ablaze
in so many different ways .
And  comets burnt the atmosphere that
was set ablaze in falling rays ,
the moment you drew near .


For you touched my heart in so many ways ,
like when we walked as if for days ,
across  planitory realms of space
forming
shooting stars of amazin grace .

For  we would watch the sun fall and rise
in glorious colours before our eyes .
“ For there lies infinity”  you said
as you squeezed my *** just before bed .
from which billions of stars are formed ,
and then die
each one set
before our eyes ,
like in some cosmic catastrophe,
like a story time that didn’t rhyme ,
as children cry themselves to sleep ,
in loving memory of little Bo Peep .


But for a time we lived,
and died ,
in such a short span of time
like shooting stars before our eyes

Goodbye my love
as I touch you’re ghost ,
but it’s what I want to feel the most ,
the soft touch of scent upon you’re skin ,
as if some day  we could start again ?

If love has never ending dreams ,
If some should die ,
and some should live .
If Earth and Sky should be as one ,
then melt into the setting sun .
If ghostly shadows of our past,
should reclaim our souls at last .
And hopeless dreams could one day become .
like earth and sky ,
Moon and sun .
And as we walk ,
by our selves or with a friend ,
and the world looks like it’s about to end .
A baby cries ,
not one but two ,
a girdling and spluttering now splits
the earth in two .
And  enters  in
a new born babies cries
New life for that. Poor  mothers crying eyes ,
once red with pain ,
now in her eyes hide a softer blue ,
now as deep
as only her babies new .