If you never hear from me again ,
just remember this ,
it is that I loved you with the fondness of spring ,
for it was not in a twinkling that I did depart ,
but it was to ever lay upon the ruins of my heart ,
the sadness it would bring .
For Not an ounce was it not spared ,
upon these mill. Ponds ,
that rippled ,
that laid bare upon this  frozen earth ,
those daffodils of spring .


But alas this winter is eternal has laid contempt upon my brow ,
as our bodies perish ,
from this cold ,
but  let it not be like this if it  is it to be remembered ,
for only  by the merriment of youth ,
shall it be endowed ,


That we should ever spend our days on earth ,without a friend ?

And the dear sentiments of when we first met ,
are now only tinged with the  deepest regret .
That these bitter winds one day might end ,
and if they do I beg  of you ,
that you will see me ,
not then  as the years have marched on ,
but as a companion and a friend.


But if not the years than what ?
For the years in all their  dearest forms ,
should dare to charm what we once knew .
For if it were my last food parcel would I not give unto you ?

For if it not Charity should ever boast about things just as these ,
It is that this endless winter should ever  bring us to our knees ,
and walk cap in hand to our Lord and master of thi# land ,
that he should take pity on the plight we now stand ?
Or if a passing stranger should walk on by ,
and take ruth,
under these blackened skies ?
Or just find one more thing to wither and die .

But they themselves have not food to eat ,
and walk aimlessly about these  forever cursed streets .

And as of now you lye unmoved ,
upon the ground
as snow gives you  it’s blanket of spring ,
unmoved unbowed ,
the daintiest most beautiful thing ,
Layed to waste upon the ground .

For now I to  must sleep for a while ,
for death is only the first flower of spring,
the most prettiest ever eternal thing

They speak of winter as if the world has come to an end,
and so the Tudor houses are bolted up again .
For just as the sunlight dims on tops of hills and mountain streams ,,
on Cold winters and stormy nights .
Where some poor sod is chained to the walls of Bedlam hall ,
and all he sees from dawn to dusk  is darkness
and .
rats that crawl as  vermin ,their new found paradise .
So faint the fair lady’s breast that beats and finds no Nobel knight at all ,
just servitude to some wretched soul who knows no better hense ,
For into this world I was born .
The cruelest winters when rivers froze ,
and stay dogs  dug up just ice and snow ,
and wailed mercyfully into the night .for                  Bbbbbb.            there was no food in the lader ,
no mutten  or bread to eat ,
no work for life was harder than anyone could dare to think or speak .  And so many cruelty of which they did not understand ,
behind the walls of sanity ,
Is lost to every man ,
for silence feeds its  ghosts in years and every way it can .

locked doors and silent walls when love is not a guest .
But we embrace what can’t be known ,
Gods love and joy and peacefulness

A silent white rose so enter the daffodils of spring ,
a single white rose O to be in love again .

First love on a train,
will I ever see you again ?
The whistle blows the train pulls out ,
she’s left the train I’m outa luck !

And there she is just like a dream ,
the ******* the train so enters the first scene .

Of boy and girl “ can I have this first dance “
for nothing else is left to chance .

Daffodils in spring ,
a single white rose ,
all because I saw her on a train ,
when the doors were  all closed .

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 “ .

Her eyes were sunken into the night ,
how once they lit up so bright ,
like the light of a thousand candles,
lifted high on a chandelier.

Once she glowed with an   inner light ,
of innocence cast into the night
a love that shone like a burning hue ,

and lived without a care .
She dressed in what her mother gave her ,
her ever loving mother though could not save her ,
for her mother left ,
when she fell for a sailor .
so then she dressed for whoever she liked
and so she came to answer to what ever name he gave her . fr.    Touted from dawn till  twilight ,
her eyes grew dim and their  lights burnt out .
Then one day she gave birth to her son ,
killed by her own hands ,
for it had to be done .
Cast aside ,
with not even a welfare state to provide,
Into a paupers  grave .
Her mother now all skin and bone
for morning afternoon breakfast  lunch ,
and a sip of gin ,
for every grin .

So she tied a ribbon to her hair ,
Which once was neat now ***** and black ,
But at least she looked pritty ,
for when the men came back .

So they dressed her in her favourite gown ,
with a daisy and a ribbon around her waste and hair ,
a nameless grave an empty mouth ,
but at last a. beautiful saviour ,
to meet her there .

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 .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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












"














e

And so they queued before the supermarkets opened ,
desperate for toilet roll,
and soon the shelves were stripped ,
of meats and fish ,
and the old bog roll .

And the queues were long and desperate ,
despite the biting cold ,
and no one came to see the jester and the joker ,
the playwrite  the poet ,
of Old .

For once they came in the hundreds ,
to pay homage to their gods on stage
of grass or board or water

From miles like flies to stadiums built for their gods and Kings .

And so their lights went dim ,
and then went out ,
and the grass then grew like **** .
and they forgot about their gods of athleticism and speed .

They lounged about and eat starchy fats with ready meals ,
and watched tv .
And so even the Churches lay empty ,
but the Christians never slept ,
they never eat cakes and biscuits and left them on the shelf.
And so they got together ,
and so the  virtual church was born ,
with online services ,
they herolded a brand new morn .

One light at Christmas ,
the Christ child is born ,
one light at Christmas herolds a new dawn .
When all our petty slobbles are forgotten in a trice ,
all the different colours that dazzle ,
found in neon and angel lights .
The  cold nights of a stranger ,
who puts up with cardboard boxes for the night.
For he sleeps in shop doorways ,
and is killed by frost bite .

But yet this baby Christ Jesus without a home was he ,
spoke words for man to hear ,
by the shores of Galilee ,
fed the hungry,  fish by the sea .

The drunkard man fills his belly finds himself
brawling in the streets,
anything for a good time ,
for life is always bitter ,
and never sweet .

One light at Christmas man stops to take a look ,
a minute before dying ,
one light is all it took .
a crib a manger one holy babe ,
One saviour  for the dead ,
so man might believe and be saved ,
One holy. Night free from demons and death .
A holy Christ Jesus ,
that rose from Calvery ,
One holy Christ Jesus ,
the same that hung naked on a tree ,
One Holy Christ Jesus ,
died and rose for me .

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

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

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

A darkened sun rose ,
that didn’t shine ,
I didn’t ask it to ,
It wasn’t mine.

For that would be a waste of time .
So untill summer shines under it’s bombastic skies ,
I shall live a life that isn’t mine ,
for even that would be a waste of time .

Come fallen skies ,
the ones who  lost ,
That  felt no love ,
and feel no loss ,
for to what great a cost ,
their souls they blindly gave
to thee .

To touch you now and feel no pain ,
no love at all ,
to bind or gain ,
or even to wait for the sun to rise in vain ,
so to spend my time in sunflower fields ,
that do not ripen ,
So To walk in corridors that are not mine ,
for even that would be a waste of time.

For  now I see the shifting  clouds ,
they move away they are not mine ,
for even they would harken for happier times ,
untill blue skies appear

Pink lipstick you painted on you’re lips today ,
and a smile that never quite went away .
And so you called me by name ,
the least of my prize ,
for what was once dear to me ,
was broken inside .
In my dream we walked as lanterns gave way ,
to the sun by day ,
who no longer had time to play ,
only hide and seek with the moon .

Now the sun gave way to a deeper blue ,
of which only reminded me of you .
You're kiss under a deeper sky ,
on a moonless night that some how never bothered you .

Yet here you are staring into space ,
like you had almost forgotten my face !
and all I wanted was a deeper blue ,
one that could only remind me of ,
you

It was a cold crisp morning when the fog had hardly enough time to lift ,
the seagulls each one first circling around empty egg shells ,
and discarded food the dust carts had left .

Then many more came a
Circling from far off land I had never seen  before ,
untill all I could see were wings of white all   flapping ,
like some kind of maddening on the floor .



And so The trees were stripped , their branches naked found their
gaiety in the winds
for no birds would find their nests ,
in spring.
their eggs flung out and crushed or stolen by children ,
with eager eyes yet somehow  lost along the way ,
then sold for half a crown ,
to the costermonger down the lane .
with  no time to breed ,
just die ,
and lie forgotten , dead upon the ground .





So life grows cold upon this land ,
it’s secrets may not tell ,
as empty shells discarded once ,
brought a new born babies  yell  .
And Mary sung in a land far far away ,
a small child at last  should bring some joy ,
as what the Angels say ,
In Christ a new born King will be born
and In a stable
  lay .

It was a cold crisp morning as many a seagulls sung ,
as if the world was at last waiting for ,
It’s new born
Son .

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

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

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

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

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

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


W

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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







...

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

I 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 .

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 .

My tomorrows lie on distant shores ,
for when dawn breaks they shatter once more ,
into  a billion pieces of glass .
Every night i watch them turn into a new day ,
every night I’m filled with sorrow .
For like vapour from a distant shore ,
the mornings sun and they are seen no more .

How dare I dream were Vanguards lay ,
and hope they will appear some sunny day ?
How dare the Heracies of the night **** my King in broad day light ,
My rook was taken ,
my Bishop killed and all was left was my Queen
For even Ivanhoe himself how swift a Knight ,
for Saxon kings did he fight ,
could not save the day where my fair maiden lay in mortal wound ,
With broken heart ,
in a land that Pterosaurs prey .

You see I was once caught in a loving embrace ,
about to kiss.my lovers face ,
when one day a Pterosaurs with its mighty beak flew down from the skies and swept her off her feet .
Over the seas of perilous depth ,
through the shattered glass they flew ,
past the vapour that hid the moon ,
past the sun in its golden ray ,
to a land that’s called tomorrow.

My love lies on a distant shore ,
taken by a monster I have never seen before .
For my first kiss I would have embraced her love of no sweeter face .
To a kingdom where she is enslaved by the Pterosaurs. .
How could I leave the gal I love to such a fate from up above ?
Why should the cruel sea and their monsters depart my love .
Then I shall go on my ship to sail ,
upon perilous seas ,
wind rain and darkest night ,
with sword in hand defeat the beasts of this land .


What of the monsters that roam the sea when my heart belongs to thee .
The Mosasaurs before me I slay their blood now lies stained on my
chest
Their throats slit by silver sword ,
then spat out with one accord ,
down they go to sickening thud ,
down to shallows thick with mud ,
down to the seas bed that lies beneath,
for to no Mozzie sauras shall I yeald .
My chest I raise with blood stained sword ,
to give thanks to my God and Lord .



I now arrive on tomorrow shore ,
Past the shattered glass no more ,
Past the sunset that was my own ,
and sacred mist that called me home .

There she lies all chained in blood her pumping heart so full of love .
Her captors what beasts of hell ,
With blood red sword so swift to tell .
One by one their wings lie low ,
One by one to sickening thud  they go .
until I stand before my maiden fair ,
her dainty locks ,
her auburn hair .

I picked her up so her feet would not be scorched by the sand ,
placed her on our ship ,
and set sail for
Evermore .

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

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

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

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

I walked all alone in a garden where all around flowers started to bloom .
They open their eyes towards me ,
staring as if without a care ,
not even bothering if I had seen them there .

I walked further into my garden ,
a statue of a lady greeted me there ,
her eyes were far from me ,
as if I hadn’t seen her there .

Then when she thought I wasn’t looking ,
she turned to move her head ,
just enough so to see me ,
then quickly turned  away instead .


So I sat down to eat an apple to see what she would do ?
But after all it was a statue and they never look at you ?

So after a feeling of paranoia for  that’s what I felt I had become ,
the clouds started whispering to the noon day sun .

Then I had another apple and sat quietly on a bench ,
so the trees and their branches could talk-quietly amugst themselves ,
but they stayed silent ,
and all of a sudden I was left all alone ...
and all by myself ,
I set off towards home .

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 .

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

When morning gave birth  to such chilling winds ,
a song of love awoke
my weary  soul to sing ,
for this morning I was awoken by angels in the sky.

And all of a sudden there were a thousand angels singing their sweet
songs in praise to God on high .

The nightingale thrush didn’t miss a beat ,
the robins chorus sounded just as sweet ,
the owl and blackbird in harmony ,
all sung with angelic voice ,
Gods heavenly choirs rejoiced  .

And so as the sun danced ,
and the trees found their swing ,
and soon the neighbors dog joined in ,
and the cat and mouse who were just running about ,
stopped for a while ,
and wondered what life was all about ?

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 .

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

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

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

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

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 .

Go home to your mothers ,
go home and pick your dainty flowers ,
for the hours are short ,
and your days are long ,
go home this day with your mothers where you belong .

So the children came from the mills ,
who toiled all year to their masters will ,
who now were free ,
just for one day ,
to go home to their mothers ,
come what may .

For the flowers are free ,
in the blustery winds ,
that blow all day ,
and are never still .
Much like the child who to this day ,
Picks the wild flowers along the way .

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

As. the first fruits of spring ,
started to move
into  her womb warm and still ,
a beetle crawls in .  as a
bud sees its dawn
on a cold frosty lawn
And it cry’s.out
for some light ,
but is soon choked
by the chill of the night .






       Ii

But ..Then if we survive
grow strong roots
Until we thrive,
or waver
like tall trees in winter .
That  sway in the wind ,
and are cut down by our sins ,
and surrender all manner of awful things!





Yet some will find love  ,
and pick  it’s fruit from its orchards above
and will ripen and grow ,
in fields without snow
only to pick the fruit from the orchards of a stranger .
when the evening shadows. fall
up to her room they will creep ,
only to darken the rooms of her chamber .

And when winter kicks in she will turn to her honeysuckle sins
With her apples she picked in September.

only to  
break the heart of the one she most loved ,
because she fell for the arms of a stranger .







Yet others will mourn from the day they were born
and sorrow and vice ,
for they will never think twice ,
and so reap the sickle of the ravens daughter .

And then the oaks branches will break
for the cruel winds will take ,
and lighting will bear down ,
with black clouds all around
and  strip from her Maine
And the strong winds will  prevail
and call out aloud ,
“ I will soon have you’re trunk
and your branches .
And if all else fails I shall
call upon the one who Maims
and it will tear down you’re roots from your
Mountains .
And so then toss them
Into the seas .
And so separate the skies from the trees
and shake them by hand .
from the mountains.






But the strong winds soon left ,
for they thought it best ,
as a suckled the breast of her daughter.
and the birds were so blessed
as the trees shoots were covered by the leaves of the old oak tree
as a mother sang her sweet lullaby’s to her daughter.

And then Autumn came
as acorns started to fall from her branches .
again .

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

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

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

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

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

A shivering sun arose ,
It’s embers we’re cold ,
when you said we were finished you powdered you’re nose .
Now here I stand broken and all alone ,
In a space we once called,
“ Our lovely new home “

With unknown guests ,
that peer and stare ,
and fix their eyes on me  as if I’m not there .

But I have seen them moving about ,
In chambers and sculleries when the light has gone out .
Suddenly I can feel your breath on my skin ,
musty and rank ,
as the  fleeting winds ,
that blow a chill upon my spine ,
and take my breath away in the darkness of time .

My time has gone ,
and so have you ,
and the mornings suns rays bring  a damp to th3 dew .
as the branches thicken behind the trees that bring a reddening glow ,
where the sweet Alyssum forever blooms .
As the  ravens  flap their wings I feel. my heart pumping tight to my skin ,

lost in this dark forest where  I thought I knew what was best ?
Then death brought its pungent memories of spring                       of  you and i and a tatty old photograph ,
in a book on a shelf with its pages torn out .






So I light a fire to warm my feet and toes ,,
and a flask of black coffee to face my  foes .

But now they have gone and I’m all alone ,
for the ones that once looked just peered and glowed .
Just the warmth of your touch O heaven knows ,
how long I have been awaiting all on my own.
I hear A knock on the door ,
and your cheary smile ?
Now The fires are stoked I guess your not there ,
an open door brings a chill to the air ,
but I can here voices ,
They pull up a chair,
and we spend the night talking just as if you were there .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Cans of fizzy drink were left discarded tossed on beaches .

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

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

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

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 .***

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.

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

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 .

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

The sun in all its spender you awoke ,
and starlit skies ,
you’re artichoke .
Thats what I saw in you .

The moon though shadows wait and clouds may gather ,
to break and shape you’re winds of desire .

For trees will sway and and bows will break ,
but you’re heart in many days are spent ,
as pure as the driven rain that batters on the roof above my head.

But given though i dare not ask a tear from you’re eye ,
as if a wounded soul .
Ship wrecked and drifting wood ,
you cling to my mast ,
the best you could .

But you a bird of paradise,
can soothe my heart if it you’re will ,
or dash it on a stone
And so heavens angels they are calling for you now ,


you’re cage is open ,
you are free somehow ,
no longer it will be for me to bring a tear to you’re soul ,
goodbye my love ,
farewell I weep ,
to close you’re eye lids as you sleep ,
to awaken in paradise.

There was once a girl who climbed upon a hill,
and began to sing as if at will ,
to anyone who came along ,
to anyone who could hear her song .

And so I came to see a girl looking down upon me ,
and watched as she lifted her finger to her lips ,
that I become as silent as a bird ,
just in case the bird inside her heard .
And as she did she spilled the water from her jar ,
which came cascading down as far ,
so caveities would be formed in its wake ,
as rolling thunder and torrents quaked .
Pouring incesentley from above .
Then down from its jaws ,
I saw water seeping out of its pores ,
untill I took a sip from what had spilled ,
so I began to speak as if by her will,
bearing arms from my tongue,
came words I had not thought or sung .
And so the saddest song of love I came to sing ,
to end this poor girls suffering.
For trapped inside this poor child lived
the sweetest sonnets ever.,
Incased in bone cartridge and skin.

For when she was five she began to cry ,
all because her nan once said
" There be a blackbird singing inside your head "
And there it stayed for many a long day ,
and in twenty long years bore her grief ,
and many long tears .
Untill one day a prince came her way ,
Whistleling as he walked along ,
Whistleling untill he heard her song ,
Untill he touched her wet lips with a sigh ,.
And as he looked to see who she was,
she had fled ,
and all that could be heard was the singing
Of a bird ,
inside the princes head .

She perched on a tree for a little while ,
her feathers as colourful and bright of all Gods creation ,
when she began to sing.
Her  plumage sang as if to worship God ,
I had never ever seen such a beautiful thing .
Her beak was of a golden colour ,
far brighter than the stars ,
her breast was of a morning sparrows first call to brighten up the day .
Then all was as it was meant to be ,
Gods peace ,
Joy and love and harmony.

Then the crows like vultures gathered as she sweetly sung ,
and they descended on the most beautiful bird as Gods creation sung .They pecked at its bright colours ,
untill not red breast but blood did I see ,
and they stole her radiant plumage
to give to the devil to see what he might think ?

Of falling stars and heavy rain clouds ,
her feathers turned to black ,
and her song was full of sorrow ,
a requiem of man .
How I longed to see the colours so brightly she had pruned ,
but now a distant memory ,
for her home was Gods own garden ,
and it’s fruits of juicy ripe ,
and black is now her garments ,
when once everything was bright
there was no turning back,
for it was the crows who stole her colours
and her  golden beak .


Thankfully this bird wasn’t finished ,
It had one more song to sing ,
the sweetest songs of heaven ,
i heard as she flapped her magnificent wings .

It’s feathers once more became dazzling  ,
far brighter than before,
for  in its beak lay love ,
and I would see that bird no more.

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.

I  have walked for miles through distant shores,
past eroding cliffs that would be seen no more ,
Past temples of stone swept away by the seas ,
seen war Lords brought to their knees . Tanks have rolled past towns  ,
mowed children and their mothers down .
For a slithering tongue is never up to any good   ,
and evil passes by in a blink of an eye ,
and is never understood.

Two dreamers hope for a new day  ,
as time goes by .
Angel's can only dream of paradise ,
as man  digs for gold.

Yet in Christ Jesus we live and are given the rewards of heaven   ,
as the profits told .

So as Christs tomb stone rolled  ,
they came with clay and stone ,
to seal up the holes of the Captains wifes dove tower .

Built so birds could nest in peace  ,
cement the darkness  ,
let light retreat  ,
and the feathers flew when all turned black  .
Then silence reigned when none turned back .

A dove found a sod  ,
above the flooded ground ,
a day when no light or love could be found ,
brought it to an Angel's arms did lay ,
and watched over man unto this day .

One day they turned to stone out of love  ,
they keep their watch as time moves on ,
a sovereign reminder Gods work is not done ,
his judgement is yet to come.

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 .

she looked at me from where she stood her grave yard eyes were ,
misunderstood ,
she left her heart in a net   ,
catching fireflies in my back garden.

The broken sun now lies low ,
for off to ambiguity she would go ,
and pierce my heart where ever
we  went  ,my forever  
toxic lady.
For I remember to this day ,
her eyes upon me was her prey ,
she sat upon me as I lay ,
my forever Carolina.
For pheasants with crowns pruned
their feathers all around ,
as we first met on the merry go round,
with candy floss lips ,
amongst the punch n Judy.

She span me around until  I dropped ,
my life had become a spinning top ,
then before the coconut shys  ,
she won first prize ,
my ever previous lady .

How I would love to steal her heart ,
go back to the merry go round from the start ,
and her sticky pink candy floss lips ,
of my sugar baby .

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

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

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

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



'