Thursday night is chicken night ,
when all is dark ,
you’re telephone rings at nine .
It rings and rings and rings .
You’re thoughts are kind ,
a helpful heart

For kindness is what it feeds on .
and spits you out like chicken bones ,
untill it’s feathers and blood are all you can see ,
how plesant the poultry!

It stalks the streets as daylight retreats ,
and neon lights are all aglow .

You’re phone rings again ,
then again ,
You pick it up,
You ask who’s there ?
It’s the chicken run that’s all .

You await a knock on you’re door ,
as you lie in you’re bed ,
In silence the clock strikes thee ,
then four .
For you’re heart thumps hard ,
you’re chest explodes ,
You’re blankets stinks in sweat .
For there is a knock on you’re door ,
You’re dreaming once more ,
You can’t tell night from day .


It’s Thursday night ,
It’s chicken night ,
don’t answer you’re phone,
don’t answer the door ,
It’s the chicken run once more.

Alone the groans of humanity that were once united in love at last. finds its rest .
We wait for a call that never comes ,
and close our eyes in death .


Now the cricket finds its leaf on some Tunisian shores weaves silk
it’s song of love ,
just as
My hand reaches out to yours only for you to flinch and turn from love .
the pebble washed over by the shore  finds itself on ship wrecked Oceans of thee .
Where once lovers walked hand in hand their love like the sands of time exposed .
Like pebbles stolen from the beach where once Greek lovers found  play ,Their. wedding songs bliss ,
hand in hand on moon set tidel bays .

So the twilight casts its gaze ,
Soon my time moves ever on  ,
the midnight flyer i once caught
Only to never find the one .
Love and death have yet to follow me ,
their paths I know not well ,
the sunshine tomorrow’s ring brings sage of old to tell .
Out of these dark ages Saxon roamed ,
Autumn leaves once green in bloom ,
have turned a golden brown only
now to deaths decay .
Their  sorrows winter shall take and find ,

An Ampetheatre of Chicken bones they gorge,
eight thousand demon hoards ,
helmet , belt and sword and my victory is assured .
“ Now set the table honey just mix the salad dear “  
“ Look mother an olive all by itself can I have it please ? ”
“Yes , now wash your hands “
and i was swollowed ,
...whole ..

T’was a morrow before St Nicholas ,
the air was stiff and cold ,
even the mice who were running about ,
took shelter from the cold .

Yet St Nicholas still had presents for all the poor and sick ,
their little eyes peered out from behind their curtains
their mothers shood them away ,
‘ after all ‘ St Nick won’t call unless your good ,’
so the fairy stories say .’
Then mother slammed the book and sent them off to bed.
Their poor staving children still needed to be fed .


And yet far away in Bethlehem Angels spread their wings,
six thousand years of waiting and at last th3 angels sing .

And an elderly man who was waiting could now die in peace ,
and so St Nicholas handed out his presents for the lonely and the week .
And so on Christmas morning all the children had enough to eat .

Not in the large houses did he bother with their gas fires at night ,
T’was the  needy and the wanton that brought hope on this holy night

And so for the desperate and the needy ,
For hot food and warm blankets and a bed to sleep ,
he still walks the lonely streets .

And so far away in Bethlehem that wasn’t that far at all ,
a new born baby tomorrow will be born,
A saviour for the desperate ,
The wanton and the week ,
and all those at Christmas time with not enough food to eat .

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 .

Clean you’re hands ,
don’t touch you’re face ,
Scrub and clean the serface space ,
self isolate .

For the streets are empty ,
only men in white with hose pipes clean and wash the streets ,
and death awaits us still .

So clean you’re hands don’t leave the house ,
get out you’re scrubbing brush ,
for death is but a runny nose ,
a cough a sneeze or so we are told .

And the airports and railways have all but closed ,
and don’t you touch the railings .
But the Cheltenham races still go on,
for everyone loves the races .

Sanitizer wash and scrub ,
there is no toilet paper ,
don’t shake my hand ile wave good buy ,
I guess ile see you later .

Now just off Fordbridge road lies a wall where Curry plants line up all in a row ,
their scent wafts past the walls and to the Church where like sung melody of coral song can be heardwhere Christ is Lord .

Did you see the robin red ******* capture ?
Did you see how it fluttered it’s tiny wings ?
One moment captured by walls of brick ,
and only an open window found this dear Robins rest .

What Babylon’s we seek .
What red walls we creep ,
Our prisons we like birds fly in to open windows .

Saddam Hussain looked out on Babylon’s ruines from his Palace
of opulent wealth ,

where black angels stalking darkness creep ,
the arrogance of evil lies
the envy of gold .
The night the moons light hid the pagans covered their eyes .
The hand of Gods
writing on the wall .
Wine filled goblets of gold ,pleasure , wealth and power to bestow
a feast of flesh for all .
Cut down with trembling fear ,
cut down as God is near ,
Cut down his arsenal to unfold .

Oh gates of Babylon of who Dio did sing and who’s gates opened wide.
who Alexander the Great
and Babylonian blood  could not hide  ,
the might of the Persian army ,
now lies crumbling in the dust .

Then my dear let no Babylon awake and tremble not that God alone
should take you’re fear .
For our secret love no one may tell ,
when we meet with beating hearts in our curry planted gardens of love .

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

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

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

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

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

















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


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









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

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

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

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

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

I layed my doll beside her ,
a perfect replica of what she meant to me .
Then held her by my side for all the world to see .

For she was elegant  when she was with me ,
a turtle dove before the spring ,
and so with all her charms of innocence ,
I loved her before any living thing .

That none should walk besides me
when she took me to the fair ,
so she can lay besides me ,
and comfort me in prayer .
under soft floral blankets ,
we will sleep this very  night .
For even death with all its grandure ,
as she looked beyond its gaze ,
a doll made just for her ,
when she has passed through this realm of days .

And so love still let it conquer when all I have to hold ,
is a doll made out of wax with its O so pretty nose .

For if it be A coffin she might. Sleep this very night ,
but in my bed she now will lay ,
my doll  with the sweetest fragrances will never see decay .

And it shall be my comfort even though worms eat her body so ,
I will always have my sweet daisy besides me ,
where ever i go .

But so the years went by and I forgot about my friend ,
who sat in the corner for years without end .
Untill one day I made love to a woman I had met at the fair ,
for she was just like my Daisy  and had long flowing locks in her hair .

And so it moved  ,
to the foot of the bed ,
as we got ***** under those soft floral sheets ,
we once called our bed ,
and now all it does is stare at us ,
and won’t leave us alone .

So we buried sweet daisy ,
we smashed her with a hammer ,
we buried her in the garden ,
and left a cross upon her grave ,
now Every night we watch in silence ,
too terrified and afraid  
that Daisy my beloved should one day
rise up fron her grave.

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

The devil came a knocking ,
he just won’t go away ,
I told him it’s past bedtime,
and a prayer is on its way .

Yet still  he rattles his bones at my door ,
of souls he once cought  ,

and doesn't bother anymore.

Yet here am I all alone ,
with an eye for all the ladies with their pleasant smiles .

With their chandlers they bring ,
to ply me with drink .
For in their music halls they sing .
Sordid songs for a shilling and six ,
and dance on the tables champagne in one hand ,
conducting the choir of the sordid man .

Now mr Charrington a Godly sacred man preaching the Lord ,
the best he could .
Yet the devils bones have still much more to say ,
about the ladies charms that seem here to stay .

So the moral be ( if there be one to tell )
follow the devils bones ,
one way to hell !
But if virtue I hold how honoured I might be ,
to know the king of love Christ Jesus ,
eternally .
And bless the ones that to this day ,
find virtue ,
and goodness spent ,
with Christ Jesus eternally .

And O that old devil may rattle his bones across the gate of his grave
yard all on his own ,
just one thing I pray ,
you won’t turn the light off ,
and leave me alone .
.

Her eyes were dull that killed the day ,
Monolithic colours of stone and clay
but when she met him ,
with his heart full of gold ,
with his bunch of red roses ,
true and bold ,
her shining knight her cavalier were words only for someone else’s ear .


A thousand colours he had to hold ,
with a heart set to conquer what he could not hold
Yet a graveyard that hid his heart,
somewhere to bury it when times got  tough .
on a windy days that shall come a time
for all of us .
when her flowers have all decayed ,
and she looks in silence at the one , for the choice she has made.

But if truth be told at what a price ,
for a price of daffodils,
if love should bloom ,
and melt her heart of ice.

amgst all the difficult things in life they bore ,
That either should say “ I don’t love you anymore .”

But to exhume their hearts with shovels and picks ,
In windy grave yards where no one sleeps .
For in separate beds where they now sleep ,
with wet damp pillows of tears do they weep .

I once had a wife who went down to the river to wash my clothes,
she dressed in red and had a funny shaped nose .
One day when i was still at home ,
she left with my washing to walk down to the brook ,
her red dress grew heavy so much she stumbled and fell ,
so  under she went as she sank like a stone .


The current was swift she knocked her head on a rock ,
and that was the last time I saw her pritty red frock !
She drowned that morning,
with the birds in full song ,
nothing else could be heard ,
she always said she wouldn’t be long .

The last time I saw her she nearly choked by the fire ,
she always complained those flames are getting higher .

And now I need to build a chimney now won’t that be grand .
Our good king hath decreed  it’s the law of the land .
But at least I won’t get syphilis now that she is dead ,
and at last I can sleep alone in my four poster bed .

For tomorrow I shall rise and leave for the door ,
and draw some cold water something I’d  never done before .
Down to the river where my woman died ,
and if I die with her at least I shall be by her side .

Go to bed my dear and rest a while ,
in sweet serenity.
Where  lovers dreams on fields of green ,
with sunflowers dancing without a care ,
gently caressing in the air .

Now Take a treacle to soothe your breast,
for I think it best ,
you rest you’re head in fields of hay .
Perhaps a tape  worm to loose some weight ,
around you’re hips and waste ?
What a difference that would make ?

Here’s some Arsenic to bring out that whitening glow ,
Here’s a parasol to hold for you’re complexion dear ,
out of the suns radiant glow ,
so to me you will never grow old .
What about a few drops of belladonna ,
before you sleep  ,
bescathed upon my lap .
Untill  daylight brightens a  new happier dawn ,
and sleep does not awake you’re
beautiful dream ,
then dream on my dear ,
dream on .

The sqorking of the sea gulls and the rushing of the waves ,
my body floated for at least a few days .
Weighed down only by the clothes I had worn ,
on my ships  fateful morn .
Now bobbing about like a cork amgst the waves ,
many a sunset and sunrise I had missed in these days ,
and so to the salty sea ,
my grave .
And the sea gulls lunch all swam about as if they were drunk .
And so the clouds parted and out came the sun ,
i wish I  could now feel it’s breath on my tounge .
But my tounge needed water ,
and all I had to drink just made me thirst ,
and so I said goodbye to this life on this earth .

No more sailing for my vessel was sunk ,
as the beach washed me up as drift wood .

A young girl was out walking her dog
along the beach when I was washed up on shore ,
along with the pebbles and ***** of the sea ,
her dog picked me up ,
then she threw me back in ,.

And so the sea came in and then went out .
I was sent back to the waves ,
just bobbing about .
Except driftwood is how they now thought of me,
just a lump of wood sailing out to sea .

I shall wait beside you’re coffin my love ,
ready for you to rise above ,
ready for you to spread you’re wings ,
above the dust and all mortal things .

For you were taken from me my dear ,
for if only sickness could have waited another year ?

Now daisies   ripe upon  the earth arise above and all around .
The bell above you’re head I left for you to ring ,
makes but not a sound !

For the foxes howl yet eary scream above you’re grave ,
is most sereal .

And the rodents that  sharpen their tiny teeth on you’re slab
are drawn by the smell of you’re rotting flesh ,
and  feverishly naw at thy  stone instead  .

Now the rain drops a patter ,
for now it won’t matter ,
one drop after another ,
upon you’re grave .
Can you hear them falling ,?
It can wait until morning,
for  the dust clouds are forming ,
calling for my Daisy above her pritty head .


For if the body snatchers come ,
I shall shoot them down one by one .

And if some fine gentleman should share you’re grave ,
I shall make sure he has washed and shaved .

And if you’re ghost should ever flee ,
hail me down a carriage so I might follow thee .
And if that bell should ever ring ,
let it be not the winds that blow it still ,
upon thy beating breast .

Into shallow waters we shall wade ,
side by side our serenade ,
two lovers hand in hand ,
Kicking out sandels off in the sand .

Oh turtle love won’t you come to ?
and the shell fish two by two ,
follow us to deeper waters splashing our hips and upper quarters.

Where is the crab ,
the star fish too ,
Caught in plastic oh are you ?
Another can of Coca Cola ,
Seaweed drowning not in salty water ,
but what man throws disguarded by day ,
what the winds just blew away ,
what the rain clouds will claim some day ,
our ever dying sands .

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 .

How dark the crumbling ruins lie ,
that once grew tall against the skies ,
that told of loves great battle cries against a snarling foe .

For leaves and rusting metals that beat against the bark ,
is all that can be heard .
Driven by a wind that won’t stop a howling ,
and hasn’t for many years .

What was once a bustling town ,
her
inhabitants left a long time ago .

Yet there is a man who still lives here
who refuses. to ever go .
An elderly gent who won’t back down ,
and never gives in to sin .
His bible sits next to his bed ,
he boils a kettle ,
and drinks his coffee neat ,
and prays every single night
for love to enter in “ .

Yet the wind still howls in his house that time forgot .
But not his God he won’t ever give up on him .

Now every day he cycles past what was once a bustling town ,
to the grocer at the railway store ,
who dos’nt know when to quit .
Who  tells him “ there’s a train a waiting on platform 1 ,
I’ve reserved a seat for you ,
fast train to easy town ,
it’s a waiting just for you ‘
But he won’t leave just cycles home with a smile that says not today..

Past where all his friends once stopped to pat him on his back ,
for they all left for the bigger stones ,
at easy town ,
where the people who wear Jackel masks  just want to crack their bones,
and spit them out for tea ,
for their lust and debauchery .
But he won’t be leaving to catch that train ,
not today ,
at least not today .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 .

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

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

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

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

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

I had a beautiful dream   ,
that was once all about you .
you were standing there with flowers ,
with a daisy in you’re hair ,
chewing hay,
with a smile that said take me there .
For now falling stars they are all I can see,
out there in the distance that’s you and me .

I first saw you at twilight ,
when you first saw me at dawn .
you’re eyes were wild ,
they lit up the night ,
and the goosebumps you gave me when you had me in you’re sight !
You had no shoes or stockings to wear ,
and we danced untill moonlight shone brightest in the tranquil air .


I touched you so gently that somehow brought a tear to you’re eye ,
and it wasn’t for the stranger that just walked on by .

A thousand candlesticks I will light to light up the moon ,
and you will place a thousand more ,
to replace the lost stars in the skies ,
when the ferdiment starts to crumble and die .

That beautiful flower I picked from you’re breast ,
as day light approaches ,
won’t you be my guest ?
As all Gods colours we shall see before our eyes .

Champagne for the morning oh what a surprise,
as we sat here quietly waiting for the sun to arrive .

Many Oceans of light
Came from the silence that you gave .
And love with all its colours
and all its pretty ways
Spread longingly before my eyes
half Blinded by her sight
they danced as one before me
in radiant sunlight .

How could I have not seen this coming ?
How stupid a man can be
For Then everything turned black ,
and now in darkness ,
she still holds on to me .

Only now she only shows me what I cannot see ,
and not her glorious beauty that once was everything to.me .
when her radiant beauty lay before my eyes .
Spread out like fruits in a basket all layed  out on the grass .
Not withering or  dying ,
but with vibrant colours spread before my eyes .
For at last I find .
How naked in it’s sunlight ,
but how blessed Is the prize .

How blessed is that sunlight ,
when in the dark I can only fantsize.

Butterflies fell silent to the ground ,
to a backdrop of fire and billowing smoke all around ,
to each one a widow mourns ,
to each one a new day dawns .


For on this day we started to plan ,
to count the cost ,
to laugh and dance again .
Not to look into deaths face and wonder why ?
O tyrant that stalked our foreign shores ,
that goose stepped through once peaceful lands ,
we put up arms against thee did we stand .

The tyrany from which we were saved ,
yet we still remember those who found nothing but a grave ,
and for those who were forced to dig their own ,
a memorial stone .

And those brave fighters above the skies who risked their lives ,
to what cost ?
Our freedom and liberty .

For every widow and every child ,
for every life destroyed ,
for every Jew who died ,
for every sacrifice .

For every Nobel cause ,
for every song birds song ,
for the day light ,
and blue skies ,
and church bells rung .
and every bunting and ballon strung .
This glorious day was won ,
In fields of butterflies.

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

Oh meadows of no beast and fowl ,
I wander where the wild winds blow to every discontent .
For above me and not below ,
the Bearded Vulture circles high above my heavy load .

Far above what I can see ,
the far off murmring of the trees ,
for distant lands has come to this ,
from far away  an evil kiss ,
Where the Bearded Vulture seeks its prey .


For my journey is thick with pine and birch ,
and rugged staff ,
and thicket and bristle and thorn .

For his is the heavens above Gods earth ,
that by his hand gave it birth ,
to feast on bone ,
not rotting flesh
and to seek out kingdoms vast in wealth .
High above what we call trees ,
high above the bullet and gun ,
where man wages endless war and the songs of peace are never sung .  
Far fowl then where cows  and sheep ,
graze in pastures not knowing this ,
that don’t in terror look to the skies ,
to seek out the talons and beek .,
and what ever flys .

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

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

Then my Nobel Queen to darkened skies I must fight .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

,

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

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

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

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

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 .

Soon my light will end a candle now my only friend ,
but this letter I now must write ,
must come to an end ,
and so
will be sent into this night .

On horse drawn carriages with a lanterns aglow , ,
at last  one last chance as my coach with ghost riders at its  helm ,
ride forth far away ,
far far away from here .

Abandon not of love or hope ,
for what I have written will find my love .
My dying words to my long lost soul ,
“Let death come quickly or in haste quicken the blow .”

And if I should die in this most wretched estate ,
pray my soul will forgive me it’s fate ,
for where it has gone ,
I think it too late ,
no mortal should ever go .
Pray my spector  will find my withered friend .for I have been most unkind ,
for it to think i would leave it behind.

For this letter I write is wet with my tears ,
of how I have hurt it for many a year .


So it departed without a sound ,
before they lay me in the ground .
Goodbye then my love ,
for  men have come ,
to break down my door ,
Oh tidderly thumb ,
be it no more .

They lay me down ,
they check my pulse ,
and close my eyes ,
and so leave my bones to rest .
with the worms and vermin that might feed on its flesh .

So goodnight my soul my pen runs dry ,
I guess this is my final goodbye .
For my body now without a friend ,
Will rot in soil no one will tend .
Their weeds will grow and brambles take ,
forgotten forever ,to the ground.

The guns now fall silent ,
to not a single sound .
No marching bands or mothers cries could be heard ,
none that could be found .

Then I heard a bird singing alone ,high above where I stood .       Alone  it perched then rested beside me,
as I knelt with flowers ,
beside a grave stone stood .

You see he died the morning after he left me for the war ,
he died and left me alone as I had never been before .

He died with guns beside him ,
some a hero might say ,
but to me he was my lover ,
my dearest friend always .

And now yes the guns have fallen silent albeit for just a day ,
for somewhere there is another war ,
even to this  day .

Somewhere someone will shout you took my neighbors cat ,
or stray into an unknown land ,
their guns shall rise again .
But  for now There is silence and for now I shall settle for that .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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 .

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 .

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 .

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

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

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

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











,

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.

I shall know when it  is  ready ,
my *** will start to boil ,
I shall know when you are ready
you’re heart will be tender and soft ,
not the frozen one I took out the freezer ,
when i was feeling lost .

But I kept it boiling for hours ,
and the water never spilled .
Or drained away to nothing ,
so it wasn’t burnt ,.. to a crisp .

So I shall season it with peppers ,
to give a wicked tough to you’re mouth ,
so sharp I shall grin from ear to ear just to hear the. words come from
you’re lips .

Then I shall serve it to you warm straight from my heart ,
with garlic and mustard just so it dos’nt ,
fall apart .,
just so I can hold you tenderly to my heart
.

O ineffable love that is now all mine
far beyond knossos wings that span the mystery’s of time ,
I have found .
A temple of stone and of  purest gold,
an Ethereal of love ,
at her beauty behold ,
and at her  temple prostrate ,
only to charm the ghosts of loves greatest fate .
bound  in chains never  to lose thy  love ,
.at thy temple gate .
Where  roses and peonies flower and bloom
and the ghost of Afroditi. can be found
unmercifully and forever bound .

And then to enter in as her gates are flung open wide ,
and with  her defences lay adorned  and broken by my side .
Only to awaken her golden crown ,
where her unlocked treasures are to be found .

For theifs have tried and all have failed ,
to capture the love of Ethereal .                                                              Fo­r they have all left ,
and bowed at the knee ,
to the beautiful charms of Ethereal ,

Only to leave chronicles of words unspoken .

But you my tempest of sweetest joy ,
surrendered to me thy gates employ
Where once lions and wild beasts all  
have roamed ,
for even they shall lay  at my feet ,
forever now,
her eternal throne .

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

I had fallen for you ,
but you’re demons got in the way ,
I gave my heart to you ,
but somehow you passed it on by .

So the swollows sang like nightingales in the summer of our love ,
and every eye watched in wonderment from Gods heavens above . .

Then the demons took a sinister look ,
to cast a spell that left a ****** hook .
For feelings danced for a little while ,
and brought to me such a happy a smile .

It was as if a fish hook flew from out of the demons eye  to scewer you as time went by .
You’re heart ran as if I had said ,
I love you let’s make love instead !

And I’m sorry our friendship found such a bitter end,
and the nightingales began to sing so sweetly
and the cockroaches took up their song ,
but that didn’t last very long .

So the flies tried to sing along ,
but their song failed to hit a happy tune .
The rats didn’t want to sing ,
for they couldn’t think of a dafter thing .
And yes I’m sorry it came to this bitter end .

But at least the ghosts came out to play ,
and their songs won’t go away ,
and it’s their songs I sing to this day ,
Ghost love songs of you .

There will be days when the darkness will claim the right ,
of the day ,
to refuse it’s light ,
for in these times when our dying embers burn,
Stoke the flame .

There will be days when our bodies ache with all the strains of worldly pain and dark days with all their pleasures Will enthrone ,
but for now ,
yes for now ,
hold fast to love .

Then there are the darkest days in the battle fields the Spectors lies
Seem oh so real ,
you fall once again for his slithery hook ,
but still the cavelry marches on

And we play around with sin like building blocks
that leave our pens wide open ,
and the rattles we shake are venomous snakes ,
which leaves our bones abroken ..

For you can’t see what has happened here ,
for all is dark and filled with fear ,
when you can see no silvery clouds above that starry hill ,
the sun moves ever on .


Yet  we see only ghost riders near when their horses nostrils flair ,
and a frost covers the icey air ,

for daylight is oh so near ,
beyond the black clouds that we hold so dear ,
our Cavelry marches on

For in. your mind all you seek is rest ,
from the ghosts and Spectors you once called guests ,
run .
And so you hear the Cavelry charge ,
the clink of armour ,
the sword ,
the steel ,
50 ,000 angels near ,
In light the sun rises like a King ,
Sword held high ,
the spectors death .
Valor and integrity  rise above their defeated foe .
So as the sun rises to Colours that stretch out the land ,
to crimson blues and golds ,
in Christ the victory march unfolds .

Alone she left him dying as if a thousand daggers were there .
Alone he felt her breathing but he knew she wasn’t there .
Alone he stood as if for hours wondering where she had gone ?
then realised it must have been the flowers ,
O where did he go wrong ?

A single candel stick now lies flickering upon a lump of wax ,
where there once was a table and on that was a cat !

But the cat left when in hot pursuit of a mouse ,
which kept him thinking where on earth did she go ?

Now the dinner Theodore had set before her covered the room ,
from head to toe .

So Theodore as charming as men go ,
set off in hot persuit of the woman who he loved ,
through the door ,
she left her glass slipper on the floor ,
down the steps ,
and galloped away .

So to this day he still could not find her ,
and that was many moons ago .

So if you hear horses hoofs and neighing when you come to stay ,
Just remember Theodore isn’t far away .

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

My dear old gran ,
had a sowing box ,
a spindled thread of .love ,
to sow our teddies jumpers ,
When we were growing up .

My dear old gran had a bible she read it every day ,
and prayed in the kitchen so I could hear her pray .

“ Call yourself a Christian?
and you haven’t washed you’re face “ .
These things my gran knitted and she never dropped a stitch .!

My dear old gran had a grandfather clock ,
it lived at the top of the stairs ,
and chimed as I moved its hands .
A grandfather clock my grand pa bought ,
as us twins climbed to the top of the stairs .

So  we all had ham and salad and chips every time we came to stay ,
all on grans best silver ,
up the cimla ,
Gran would stop just to hear us say ....

Then there was uncle Bill who forever messed with the tv ,
so much so my gran used to say
“ Uncle Bill did that to me “

A spindled tale of memories ,
my grandma,s. box of threads ,
Of life’s great mysteries like when we drop a stitch In life ,
and forget to pick up the thread !

And so I shall close that box of memories
a thousand happy days ,that
still today reminds me ,of grand mas box of tricks..
that never goes away .

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 .