My Father was a gentleman ,
he loved to do what was right.
but above all a loving Father
in everything he did ,
beit playing catch with a rugby ball on Sunday afternoons.
Or digging the garden always with a pipe in hand .


Tall dark and handsome ,
was my Dad in so many ways .

So tall my gran never lost him in a crowd
or so she used to say ,
you could see him a mile off for he had fair Curley hair ,
when all the other girls could only stand and stare ,
my mother asked him for a dance as love bloomed in the air .


But it was my sister Father took too the dance floor ,
as she learnt to waltz across the Room ,
to the tunes  of Bacharach and Rich ,
on some smoke filled  afternoon .
But when the lights were dimmed ,
and moon set far above the stars ,
which somehow looked down on them ,
from other far out galaxies  hidden from afar .
the waves washed up against the shore ,
with moonlight and roses beaming in their eyes ,
‘‘Twas their nights of paradise that encapsulated the room ,
every single night .


Yet when the mornings rays sent to lighten up the room ,
with sparrows and blackbirds chirping their O so happy tunes ,
Memories of childhood stars ,
bring memories of love .
Sitting in my bedroom even to this day ,
those memories stay with me ,
and last throughout my day

I can only dream of love ,
that formed the rock pools of beauty that sored above .,
your beauty that which was hidden from my eye ,
as when we as strangers just walking on by.

To me it is not just a hideous dream ,
that you found another just like me ?

That I should with that thought walk through the gardens of Mars !
Did Theodus . not cling to you’re love ,
for he did not even whisper in secret to you
the rock pools  that I once saw in you’re eyes ,
the rocks and gems that I pulled from the skies .
Did he not take you to the fountains of Rome ?
or Keep you from the wild beasts that roamed ?

Did Theodus not rise like a god from the seas ,
only for you to sink unmercifully to you’re knees ?

Oh for if we had risen like the birds ,
and flown to Delos on wings of our own ,
and basked in the rays of the sun ,
where Artemis comes out at night ,
and Appolo  is seen when the sun is at its hight .


As for  you and I with Theodus  dead ,
as I had crushed his ****** head to save you from loving him ,
more than I could ever love myself .
And so you caught the number one bus ,
well I guess thats the end of us !
With that bloke you were with that got on the bus .
making eyes at me from you’re  back seat ,
as I waited ,
I still have  dreams and memories of you .

There was a gate. at Waterloo. Station which many soilders  Passed on through ,
home from the war ,
but none of them were  you .
Passionately  kissing their loved ones from long distant shores ,
Life just passed me by that day,
just like many others  I had never seen before ..

And the steamy ,acrid smell of diesel ,
that brought a tear to my eye ,
that choking ,the stench of death ,
as others just walked on by .
have you seen my son ?
and I asked every one ,
what have they done ?
Not even a letter ,
or a note ,
I could trace .

I walked past soldiers some are dead some barely alive ,
Just to look into their eyes ,
yet none can compare to what now wells up inside .

Missing that’s how I now think of you ,
you went to the war ,
and never returned,
not in a coffin ,
or a grave ,
or in a hug or a kiss ,
you’re cold hands I could feel and touch ,
now I can’t even warm them up ,
Is something I will miss .

Just missing ,
that’s how I think of you ,
the door bell  rings,
and when it does ,
I think of you .

A soldier returned  from the war ,
on a train with many many  more ,
Into Waterloo station ,
rode ,
Pillows of smoke as loved ones awaited ,
as he stepped  out of his carriage to the gate ,
Onto Platform twenty one .
Past many lovers with their soldiers brave ,
walked  down that platform to see his mum .

Past the fallen the wounded souls ,
who braved the war for all its folly
and tin *** gold .

Past the falling of the years ,
Through countless others who matter not .

His arms out wide spread like English meadows of cows and fields ,
right up to his mother he ran ,
as if in those ainchent. foreign lands ,
were never ever seen .

But she just stood there with tears in her eyes ,
showing a photograph of him  to anyone who walked on by .
The soldier screamed look mom I am home ,”
but she didn’t see him how ever hard she tried ,
and she kept on looking even though he was right there at her side .

Now there once was a pea lady who walked our narrow streets ,
as day light broke for sixpence she woke ,
her neighbors up each day .

So they could trudge for their bread for lunch ,
too feed their hungry souls ,
to walk each day in the pouring rain right up to the factory yard .

So many peas she shot that rattled each window frame ,
come rain come hell or shine ,she would be at it again ,
untill they all trudged down to that factory road .

Whilst others used canes or other noisy refrains.,
they all said was “ miss  Peawinkles  at it again .”
and “ those  ****** peas will be  the death of me ”
as they walked each day right up to the factory yard .

O rise in me this font of love ,
that I should dwell with thee above ,
that in his name my dwelling place ,
to find his kindness and his grace.

Never to wander or pick a fruit thou asked me not such ill repute .
So I be tempted but by nought ,
or face the Roth such bitter a thought .

O Lord who helpest from above ,
find all in me nothing but love .
Quench the serpents deceitful hand ,
the ace of spades ,
the jack of clubs .

The hood that masks his evil eye ,
that sayes all must perish ,
all must die !

That love is just a falling card ,
with hate on the other side ,
falls fast .
And where it lands our future holds .
All of Satan’s lies .

Hush be still my beating heart ,
for the one I love is home ,
She keeps within her breast a fruit for me picked from a tree ,
it was meant to be ,
fruit from my lovers heart .

A fire is lit ,
a most favourable chair ,do I sit .
My lover knees before me ,
her eyes look into mine ,
this fruit I see before me ,
Is either pure evil ,
or Devine. ?

Yet all this can wait I shall leave a knife by my plate ,
put breath to my candle ,
and find rest in her come to bed eyes .

Once when the Autumn  leaves were falling ,
upon a crisp dry land ,
my Gran and I came across an Avenue of trees ,
which I for one thought it grand .
A tree to hind under ,
so I won’t be seen ,
a tree to hide us from the rains and  pelting stones ,
the shades of reds and oranges hiding in the firn groves ,
and evergreens .





But most of all a leaf my gran picked from where we both had  trod ,
it was a leaf gran placed in a book ,
but now sadly is  has  gone .

Woven into my memories a single leaf that never grew old ,
or crinkle or faded like the book of all its pages now curdled ,
yellow and old .


And one day I will find them both ,
In the Attic,
Or Underneath the stairs ,
to remind me of my dear gran and all the things we shared .

Oh the silver ships on plastic oceans ,
Marshmello clouds above garbage tips .
and the smell of acrid sewage pouring into rivers deep in slime and filth .

A  can of tin lies abandoned in the road ,
Cars with petrol heads ,
Children lying in their mothers beds ,
Wheeze as plumes of smog rise above their heads .

Mattresses dumped on public land ,
a mother to tired to think ,
Worn out by screaming child who just needs a ***** or a drink ?

And on we go round and round on a merry go round ,
While the earth looks weary on.

And aliens surround us with their knives and mobile phones ,
to scared to walk ,
talk ,
just run .


The hospitals await them still full to the brim with gun law and hate . And on we go ,
to Whales washed up on beaches  
Polar bears drift on sheets of ice,
burning oil fills the sea ,
man lights a cigarette in silence ,
and yes it still bothers me .
Even  so ,


the  earth looks  on in silence .
Turtles and fish eat and die from plastic that swells the Ocean deep .

,Now silence and weeping as floods and bugs enter our summer and winter .
No frost to chill the dawn ,
summer with its beaches full of idol sun lovers who left bags and cans now where have they gone ?
Not to the sea ,
for it is empty ,
not to buy for the shops have all closed .
To their beds they lay dying ,
as the earth looks ever on .
Then with candy floss dreams ,
and fair ground rides stop and sick and ***** we fall ,
One baby ,
One gift was born to save us all .

Thimbleful  honey came home to find her pantry  bare ,
her bread was sold for half a crown ,
but she didn’t seem to care .

Now her husband was a jolly soul ,
he spent her money on gin ,
and so mr thimbleful came home one day ,
and. never got-up again .

Yet her pantry  needed filling ,
a piece of soap to wash the cat ,
Mrs Thimbleful went a begging ,
and wasn’t afraid of that .

But the men she saw were easy ,
for a tuppence for a time ,
one by one she saw them ,
by night ,
now wasn’t that a crime ?

Just to buy a loaf of bread ,
which was just enough to eat ,
so no wolf or desperate strangers should come a knocking at   her door ,
or pass her in the street .

yet  Mr thimbleful said nothing ,
he just drunk and slept all day ,
but at least she had a Lader full ,
and a smile to greet the day

I sailed from tranquil waters to where the waters swell ,
with no compass to guide me .
alone in my sufferings for i knew them well .

For   my masts and riggin were being battered With every fleeting breath ,
from mast to stern I wandered this clipper ,
as my eyes sort no rest .

Then the sun lost its gaze as I drifted further out to sea ,
but  all I could see was a tempest within my soul ,
abating me .

O howling winds and shadows that hath taken me to this night ,
the stars spread out vast and broad were their sight .
with no rudder or compass I’m lost as the stars shone O .

Then I heard a voice much clearer than before ,
a one I loved so dearly ,
down below .
One like I had always heard before .
for my captain with helm knew where I had trod ,
his arms stretched out towards me not far from where I stood.
for This war within me and battles some I have fought and won ,
rage on within me to the glory of the setting sun .



For the seas are now  like mill ponds stretching out to distant lands,
and peaceful the silence against the prevailing shore ,
in this forever changing land .
For just  for now they are still ,
will they still haunt me to my grave ,
the mill ponds of silence or the forever rushing waves ?

At home I have a colour box ,
which paints my poetry ,
some words I use a lot ,
for this never bothers me .

Some words are rich in thought my very special pens .
and some I just use a lot because I had forgotten,
every poem  ends .

But this one dos’nt it can paint with love and other different colours
unbeknown to me.
And so vast their tones and fortunes only seen through fervrant  eyes . So you with all your splendour when you’re thought prevail ,
amas you’re wondrous colours and dip into youre colour box again .

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

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

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

My sweet does the candelabra lighten up my eyes ?
Or it’s wax soften my heart ?
Does my soft touch see you creep ?
For my beating heart has been exposed,
only to see you turn away as it’s hot wax touches you’re hand .
Was there something in my eye that made you turn away ,
or the blosoming sunlight that just got in the way ?

The ring on you’re finger is it thine ,
or does it belong to some other ruddy swine?
For my love for you is no gawdy affair,
as for the flower i placed in you’re hair was so dainty and rare .

The candelabras light has been exposed by the puff of you’re cheeks ,
It’s wax is long as darkness draws near .

Nee my carriage awaits ,
outside the mansion gates ,
to cliperty clop and whip i leave ,
with an avenue of trees open up before my eyes ,
i turn around and hear you’re cries .

**** ..” Take this flame from me I heed it not ,
That my blackbird should  die before my very eye .
That my burning torch should light a flame ,
that cries out to who so ever killed my love ,
to eternal darkness render thee “

Robin ...” But you sir on this darkest of night ,
Might need that light to bury your dead ,
that lies before thee as still as this very night .”

**** ... Let me first persue this creature,
that took away you’re life ,
be it man cat or bird ,
come forth before me now whilst you still can .
For no trees or barns ,
house or home canst ever hide you away from me .”

Robin ...” The bird is dead ,
                   the deed is done
canst it not wait untill the morning sun ?

****... This night if this creature does not come forth ,
it will be too late for it will lay dead before my beek”

Then from behind a tree came a fox ,

Fox. “ I saw what killed the bird it fell from this tree it was quite obserd !”

By then other birds from the wood had gathered around ,
as judge and jury .
The ravens clacked and clicked ,
the blackbirds chirped ,
others sang , but it wasn’t a happy sound .
Each one with piercing eye on the intruder who had just walked by .
With ****** mouth , which kind of gave him away ,
and soon lay dead upon the
ground ,
next to where the blackbird lay.

The curtains are drawn ,
no one wakes ,
the nights are long as the wolf lies in wait ,
for and when the sun burns out it’s days
the world will  be a happier place .

For no one dares now to venture out ,
their doors are shut ,
and are all bolted up .

And on the hearth a boiling stew ,
of rabbit or what ever runs and crawls ,
they will catch that  to.

Fasten down the bales in the wind,
for everything moves and nothing is still .

And if the winds die down for a while
the frost will bight ,
and break the bones of this  bitter night .
for  nothing is gained by the watch mans light .

Then when  the wolves and dogs will catch your hens ,
don’t fall asleep ,
to their wailing ends,
with flint lock poised ,                                                                ­             fo for the dead can’t awaken the wolf’s crafty stare ,
and pritty soon your hens won’t be there.!

And yes the nights will shorten soon ,
for one day they will end ,
and your crops will one day dance in your meadows again

Now you are far from my touch, my hands ,and my face .For now I ihave lost you’re loving embrace ,
for the mountains don’t tremble they way when you were near ,
and you’re hand dos’nt make my heart quake  everytime you’re
hand went near .
For now  you are far you’re eyes have gone dim.
You’re eye lids have closed ,
you’re flesh  has gone pale ,
a pallor mortis of you’re skin that I once kissed with a.
loving grin .

The Crows have all gathered they are here in a field ,
now you lie next to you’re Father ,
as soil drops I hear it fall on top of you’re grave ,
for in love you were with me ,
now in death you are found .
Yet  the gardener will still find blooms in you’re hair ,
many years after I whisper you’re name to the moon lit airs.
Now  you are far ,
things can  never be the same,
the sunshine you brought when you called out my name .

So let the Nymphs of earth carry you away to some far away place ,
where we shall meet again some day ,
to Ride together for we shall become one ,
through forests past mountains to find the wings of the sun .
Yet now you are far and all that is left is a tomb ,
a single carnation now falls silent on you’re face

The Stag lies down
the crows peck at his flesh ,
he closes his eyes for  his mistress has died .So
Let  the winds cry fowl ,
as crows perch on the gate ,
as a strong winds howls
pray tell me I’m not too late ?

When the snow covers the hill tops ,
and turns to ice the mountainous springs ,
when angels wings covet the skies ,
when all that can be seen are these things .
For only  mountains split when  God is near ,
only then I shall  fall into you’re arms ,
because you are so dear .

So let  snow covered   mountains then  tremble in you’re sight ,
above the earth ,
where perfumed goblets pour out amugst the stars ,
and crows that once gathered ,
are now scattered near and far .

Then  statues of you and I will rise in marble and pure gold ,
their metals will glisten by the fountains of Bairn                           tthat     told by scribes that have long since died .
Passed  down though time bybirds with heads of maidens ,
for so black are their bodies ,
as we grow  old  ,
their faces gaunt and pale.
But our hearts grew strong in love and grace ,
even as our bodies grew weak and frail .

O then for  it is it not you’re beauty I await .

Now the song birds have fallen silent to this fate ,
so then do the stars and the moon await ,
and shadows in the garden now appear ,
now you are near .

And so when morning comes I shall await for the sun ,
it’s bitter cold winds now that mornings begun ,
on clouds carried by Nymphs of the earth
when Gods holy messengers cover their wings ,
for even they can’t look on such beautiful  things

For by this gate I wait for you’re return ,
where you’re Father lays buried  beneath the wings of the sun .

Then I hear the pounding of hooves ,
far away in the distance .
O now you are near ,
as my horse gains pace o so many the year,
as our hearts beat faster for now they are one,
two lovers together ,
their joy hath begun .
together forever ,
now you are near ,
by the grave of you’re Father how bitter you’re tears .

I am the star that shines so bright,
that sends true seekers here tonight .

( to be honest it was given to me so here’s to Chennestone infants .)

There you lay one charming night ,
were in you’re caverns you seeked no light .
the Fogwroth arose you from you’re rest ,

Arouse in me what can not be said ,
least Fogwroth ties you to you’re bed .

Lest you wail into this night ,
and I set alight a candle bright ,
so that you with a smile upon thy brow,
might gaze with longing upon my tinted glow .

So i can set free you’re ties ,
when morning breaks ,
and Fogwroth dies .

And so ride off shall you and I ,
with the blood of Fogwroth  still not cold ,
at least it was you who had a heart of gold .

So to my chambers rest ,
not that you should think it best ?
To lay waste you’re silk white dress ,
and my breeches ,
you thought best to wait not untill the morning.

How could you love me ,
when I know nothing of love ?
You’re  sweet smelling fragrance ,
when to kindle you’re flame ,
slowly burning yet always the same .

How could you love me if I. Could  tear you ,
Limb from limb for ,
if you ever knew ,
the chains my heart holds down ,
to save me from sin .


For your gifts are more precious than silver or gold ,
a candel so bright ,
a love that isn’t cold .

A warm hug when I’m asleep in bed ,
a cup of coffee ,
when nothing needs to be said .

How you could love me when I cannot love you ,
and yet you stand by me ,
When I never wanted you ?

For that is all I know and it’s what I call home .
But in silence you awake me ,
for it is in silence you breath .
You’re breath that excites when ever you are near .
Laced in perfume you pull at my cords .
For if death dos’nt excite ,
then the loser takes all .

How could you love me any tenderly than this ?
For one day you shall awake me to be greeted by
a  kiss .

A fallen rose without a name ,
will the world ever be the same ?

A falling tear that falls from you’re face ,
just before you’re warm embrace ..

Both of these things I will do ,
all in memory of you .

For i will  hold in my hands the Autumble showers God has planned ,  and when rain clouds appear  from afar ,
I shall awaken the morning star .
With such beauty such as this  ,
from which I was blinded from such a kiss .

Which is why I never saw you’re rose of nameless  grace ,
fall in silence before my face .

And I never saw you’re tear ,
thou I was forever   near .

But I will still hold rain clouds up in my hands ,
for that is what God has planned ,
for I felt you’re hug when you were near ,
and for that I will hold up
the world ,
my dear .

On London Bridge to harrowing sound ,
Of. Ambulances  sirens all around ,
and terror strikes at Londons cosmapoliton night .
Another day break ,
another dawn ,
another ****** morn .
I awoke .
The R S P C A shop left outside bags with rags and books ,
and children's toys for girls and boys ,
Open to wind and rain soon strewn accross the pavement .


Left against a wall ,
And those that leave them drive away unable to read .
To blind to see in the name of charity ,
at the end of my road ,
Fly tippers leave bags tables and chairs .
Or those who smoke outside coffee shops with espresso
and cigarette buts and chat for hours on Sunday morning streets .
Or Alex who sold the Big Issue last week ,
Who returned home as his nephew had died ,
Who won't be back soon .
And to those who pass by and don't bother to buy .
Or stay for chat ,
Or bother to ask

How are you?
Outside the coop supermarket .
Near by
And what once stood proud ,
Now pigeon finds its nest and once where table and chair  
To learned children would sit stands **** and birds nest .
Then vandals came and bid it to shame to disrepair
They left it .
Ashfords  history left to rot   .
Mad politicians the bulldozers came ,
a crazy plan left to ruin .
What The Luftwaffer failed ,
The council with Bulldozer nailed ,
Brought crashing down in ruin .

Around the corner. The church was packed with freedom songs
Inside .
To God be the Glory .
Last night the ends of the earth came to London Bridge , to Borough market evil came .
When we should go to the ends of the earth to save the Godless from hell , and
As darkness fell and young hearts beat so full of love ,
One last time
One love.

When I was born man sent rockets into space ,
Castros missiles pointed war heads ,
yes Pigs of War gathered like none before .
Screaming I came into this dark world ,
yet craved nothing but my mothers milk ,

Then Winter came .
But foulest ice ,
and snow stopped trucks in their tracks ,
Milkmans will did break .
For wind and hale could never stop me or my will forsake .
Yet how the Cheve Impala roar ,
found her picking sea shells from a tropical islands sandy Shaw .
A Galaxy of moon rivers could ever temp me to walk away
from its ever fading moon light night .
How I found this darkness like a worm finds its rest ,
How this slab of mine turned over again and again.

If only I had seen Brasil dance through Italian defences ,
Sons of Welsh miners ' Edwards to Williams he must score '
Claim the triple crown .
As is Gypsy was penned for Zurichs smoke filled concert halls ,
Santana's Latin rhythms light up Woodstocks samba party .
Or two lovers in each other's arms after war had ended.

Only my rose is no longer red ,
for no one does its petels bleed ,
and my hand is so numb with pain .
For my rose lies fallen in the snow ,
and other feet have vainly passed over ,
Worst of all
I feel l have lost your love .

I awoke just as the dark clouds gathered above the coffee shop .
Two months without rain had parched the once green grass where
Cows and Bulls once grazed ,
their land now a slave to the clouds shedding even more rain .

Rolling thunder clipped the trees and their branches fell hitting the yellow grass as if the heavens wept for what was about to happen ..

A Falcon swept into my nest and soon my chick had gone .
How many more like tax collectors collecting their dew ,
Yet without them we would fall prey to a far greater evil ,
as to what lies beneath!

On Falcons wings we climb above rocks are left to die ,
to some Falcons nest we lie ,
always for the greater good .

A crow did to blackened. Sky's Persue ,
one Crimson thought  in paradise tell .
and flew away past my window without a thought for me .

A sparrow found its rest on a stag at Bushy park ,
as many followed still would not give its heart to me .

And lurid sky's of Ophelia behind a shrouded sun ,
Looked down on Churchills statue .
Who himself a tear did pass as the Crystal Palace To clouded wreath filled. heavens ,
Where glass and iron met with crackling and bangs and billowing smoke
belong, before the Luftwaffe would ever darken England's skys. Of blue .
And so it's Ash from Forign fields and deserts belong ,
To land in England's pasture and turned our sky's to orange and
Red , .
And in those crystal hues. deny to wake in your dreams ,
Or leave a key in your door you had never forgotten before ,
Or go to a shop and wonder why you went ?
Or leave your brolly on the train as you come in from the rain ,?
For in your dreams a train may wait ,
inside. a staircase with white washed lime walls , a Theatre where your greatest performance
Awaits .







.

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

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





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

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

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

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

.i

No more neck pain ,
Tooth ache ,
Stumuch ache ,
head ache ,
Heart ache ,
Pain ache ,
Brain ache ,
Cramps ,
Colds ,
Sinus ,
Sorenes,
Norsia ,
Nostrils ,
Tonsils ,
Tinnitus ,
Asthma
Feelings ,
hope  ,
and when hope has gone ,
So has longing , and love ,
and our hearts grow like cold in quick setting cement ,
Now that’s dead !

“ Darling lets take a trip to the moon ,
you and I in a paddle boat with stars tied together with string ,
cords of love .”  

“ But what if we don’t make it back ,
and the earth is just a faraway sphere ,
suspended in the atmosphere?

And what if there are no carriages back ,
or the coach man gets hijacked ?
Should we try again ?
what if our balloon should burst ,
or lose its way in the clouds ,
past the earth ?

For only then will we know what it is to love ,
who to throw over board when times get tough ?
When our two paper boats float together side by side ,
not twisted or turned by the tide .
Just floating together hand in hand.

But earth was never meant for us ,
for our ballon fell out of the skies ,
for our carriage never made it to Rome .

But my love for you never wavered or died ,
I just called it suicide .”

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Curious came and went ,
for curious could never stay long ,
for by the morning she was gone .!

No bows or arrows with their jagged edge ,
could piece the heart of this winsome ***** .
No quick harpsichordal  melodies of love ,
will ever well  up or spring from her heart for thine .
For she  smiled like the beaming first rays of a summers day ,
yet  in a few hours  she had gone away just as the pappi disappears before the sun on a hot summers day .

So shy but anaware of her beauty that once led her there ,
So delicate like the pappi of a dandelion ,
flying away in mid air ,
“ forget me not .
Forget me “ as she walked away .

Far far she went ,
faraway she walked away from me ,
how could i forget ?
But  that’s what I did .

That’s why when she whispered her last Papu  away ,
I still can’t remember to this day.

The skies and trees are sown in falling leaves ,
their branches thimbles break .
And so the moon takes back this hour my dear old granny. spake .

So each cloud that passes O  is filled with spite and hate ,
and every sunlit boat that crosses every lake ,
is my every thought that dreamers make ,
and  dreams I’m not too late .

Yet  the skies are growing darker ,
and your boat is yet as far ,
and so  my dreams of seeing you are now hidden. by a star .

But Granny’s words my old gran read when I was just a kid ,
spoke of crystal streams and dancing nimphs as the sun caught my eyes .
along with all the things she said .
So along with the many books she read ,
she sung a lullaby .

And so we went a fishing in nets to catch frogs and toads and newts.,
and granny said “ one day you will catch a lady ,
just like you caught that newt “

So I still dream of paradise and all the love she might bring ,
and prayed those darkened clouds won’t cause her boat to sink .

That’s why I’m standing by this pond all alone ,
awaiting for my paradise ,
a falling star ,
holds many dreams ,
and a nimph to show me how far.

If. Perfect love casts out fear , then why does so consume me ?
The mere thought severs the soul,
Starves you of rest , yet beguiles me .
Yet God is love , in him we find peace crystallised in our Lord Jesus .
He casts out fear when dawn breaks near,
To the Cross I cling , Lord of everything ,
Embraces the one who's  love is but a tear .

A child found a book of war ,from hay where her mother and father lay dying .
From page to page she turned ,
each page of sage dripped in blood and gore .
Each page spoke of vengeance’s sharped sword ,
each page of sorrow and death ,
each page of sabered ****** hand .
Call of tyrants from mountains came to fight forever in Odin halls ..
The weavers witch spinned and cut the thread and cursed the land .
and goblets of blood of man slept till nevermore .
Spin spin tales of woe ,
Spin spin the weavers go and blood and goblits forever until
the curse is broken .

Gods poets spoke of love and peace to take the darkness that stalked
the land one bright light to guide them,
so even God in his mighty love might not judge them .

Spin the thread the tales of woe ,
Spin the weavers gold and blood ,


and goblits until the curse is broken .

And the fires burnt and furnise fired for shells of war,
that fed the cannon and muskit .
For King and country ,
For Cromwell’s army ,
to over throw the country .

Spin the thread the tales of woe ,
Spin the weavers gold and blood ,
and goblits ,
until the curse is broken .



Two lovers with beating hearts ,
one left for King and Country.
He looked
into her eyes ,
“;don’t be sad when I have gone for you’re sadness forever take you .

Then over the top to the four winds blown   ,
over the top for King and country .

.” So weep beside the willow tree ,
     for letters of love for me .
For where flowers grow our hearts will go ,
See the flowers they grow
beside you .
and though the trench in death you lay my heart will forever find you for  a telegram man arrived today as i was picking flowers .

The girl closed the book and placed a flower in ,
then danced around a young willow tree for now the curse was broken .

Dance around the willow tree ,
plant a flower of love for me ,
for now the curse is broken.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

Swollowed whole .

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

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

Walking home late this afternoon ,
past O familiar streets and shops ,
past all too familiar faces ,
their completions tired and worn,
but they wore masks with smiling faces ,
as they all dragged behind their backs their  heavy loads
Their  coats and dressed torn ,
and they kept looking to the skies ,
as if for a sign which never came ,
to lighten their brand new morn .

It wasn’t dark yet ,
yet enough light not for me to fumble for a match to light my  candle ,
so to mark the way before my eyes .

But at this unGodly hour how life could suddenly change .?
For no man or child or lady would ever now be the same .

For a sneering darkness now covered this land ,
it’s clouds now formed likened to a doll like features ,
of staring eyes and porcline face .
It winked ,
then smiled ,
it’s deadly grin .
So  when they pulled their loads ,
they never gave in .






In labotories ,
in Petri dishes ,
under microscopic lens ,
It took to flight
and called them it’s friend .

But as ***** stalk their prey
Untill it’s nothing but skin and bone ,
this life form filled-the.  skies ,
as we mask our lives from its breath ,
we call death ,
Is hid before their eyes .

But only when the day gives up its fight ,
and men hold up lanterns ,
Which shed no light ,
and.  they return screaming back to their homes ,
only to wait for morning to lighten their loads .

And so in a land far away a little girl came in to play ,
she picked her doll up from the floor ,
then placed it in its doll house as it was before .
Just at that moment the sun came out ,
birds sang ,
as the crocus bloomed ,
In all its many colours .


And then I heard the first lark of spring ,
O what a pritty little thing
O what joys it brings,
as man gave up the loads he bore .,
and so they danced untill their feet were sore .

For there canst finds me no sweeter thing ,
than this little birds reward of spring .

An open canvas ,
holds a white blank page ,
the poet sits in silence ,
his mind full of fanciful thoughts of dreams .
We visit gallery's in our mind as vast and grand as any oil on canvas , and construct words as majestic as any William Turner or Greig .
The sun rises ,
The sun sets ,
Waves crash and fall ,
the tide comes in ,
the tide goes out ,

our pens and hearts arise and set with each one,
The dawn and fall of another day .  


The moon shines down in part and in full ,
and we dream of a man and wish he could not tell ,
of broken minds ,
and misspelt words
empty rooms  ,
and coffee cups ,
that a flick of a bristle could not erase ,

and we sit back and wonder if our words don't rhyme ?
And all the time our minds must dash to flashes and images we
have not seen in a thousand dreams .
nor set a table and chair and invite them in .
For when fantasy rhymes our hearts entwine and ink must flow forever ,
and when they do it's just like dark chocolate porrage
Or a thanks from a friend who's fence she mended to see you .

that smile she gave ,
That laugh you cought ,
The dinner she cooked ,
Her beating heart when all was still
Her hand in yours that said I love you .

And in all these ways  ,
Paul saw in awe ,
Before the dawn of time ,
God said you are mine '.
The
 poet sat back in his chair and read his words ,
With candle wick low and ready to bed down
For the night his words lived on ,
Until all had gone ,
and there was no light ,
But dreams ,
and our minds ,
don't stop .

“ O wait for me won’t you for I won’t be long ,
I’m just going to sing to a Blackbird  a song “

So I waited by a Merry fair where all the girls that passed me ,
had curls in their hair ,  
and bonnets so rare ,                                                                ­             only for the sweets they offered weren’t bought at the fair .

So I doffed my top hat too many times ,
with a smile and a grin to remind me of happier times .
Of my sweet Polly Anna whispering sweet nothings at night ,
when the room is all cold and we’re snuggled up tight .

For my Polly loves nothing more ,
than to see me doffed  my top hat once more. .

So when she returns with a flower in her hair ,
at least I shall still be standing like Scarborough fair .

And so after a while ,
for my watch struck just after three ,
there she was she came a looking for me .
With an apple as green as the tall grass all around ,
she ate as she walked to me without a sound .

Her hair was down a flower she wore ,
When she threw the apple core on the floor .
Her eyes were twinkling thinking only of me ,
My sweet polly Anna for all the things you do to me .

Hope that eternal flame,
that was built so men could  see,
a first bud after winters rain .,
and blossoms returning to the trees .

For when we close our eyes when deaths daughter calls near ,
‘‘Tis it not angels song is all I hear ?

Awake awake O morning cloud ,
that passes hills and seas and knows no bounds ,
then like I without a faint heart will run like a deer that
Leaps and bounds ,
through fields and meadows ,
springs and streams .

And if my hope is dashed as driftwood moves upon the sea ,
I shall cling to that driftwood untill I see ,
The light of Portus in front of me.
Be it not man that we should trust ,
could ever shine such light in hope of us ?
when evening clouds are turned to night ,
at least we shall gaze on such a shimmering light.

Would you even notice the quietus in my heart ?
It forms an empty shell that’ longs to depart .
A dinner guest who’s eyes are dead
who’s memories are but a floral death in you’re bed .
for all you’re sweet poses ,
and eyes that twinkle ,
brought nothing but lies .
For inside i have died
like you’re words are lost
In caves in my mind
their echoes of thoughts still run dear .

The door quietly closes ,
my clock strikes on the hour ,
and sweet are you’re posies ,
curtsys and smiles,
for. Youre  bed of lavender ,
holds sinister smiles .
Yet I’m alone with all these thoughts inside my head .
for you aren’t around to sweeten the blow ,
since you left an hour ago .

For blessed is the night when sleeps shadows awake ,
and take my minds away from this place .

Set a place you’re dinner guest is here,
a ghost in a shell empty and cold draw near .
For I will go to hell in this burnt out shell ,
and laugh so friends can hear ,
then turn off the light ,
and sleep untill you are near .

Nobody believed in mr Bobbings any more ,
and pugtail  because of this was feeling rather sore .
Why would they no one ventured anywhere near Puggled farm .

Those  that did were up to no good ,
and usually ended up dead or on a block of wood ,
for Mr Bobbings was sometimes let’s say misunderstood.

And so the years went by ,
and it’s tales were forgot ,
and lovers prayed ,
for the years time could not .

But the trees still spoke when no one was there ,
to each other ,
with a careless abandon that brought a blush to the air .
But even so if all  but one of the animals had gone ,
Puggled. Farm still lived on .

As for mr Bobbings oh he was still there ,
Underneath the carpet ,
behind the stairs .
It’s just that no one really cared ,
except Puglit the only one to see him there .

As for the timepiece that still keeps time ,
and when Mr Bobbings dies maybe it will refuse to chime .
And Pugtail still returns back to his sty ,
to be fed and watered as time goes by .

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

The rain clouds after summer why did they last so long ?
And left   me to wonder where it went so wrong ?

They grey clouds still linger as did the death of spring ,
and summer lasted as long as a leaf falls ,
and yet they do not sing .

Like a mulch it’s flavors rot ,
and are raked then carried away,
And very soon ,
the moon will be full
but will last but just a day

And all is left is a  naked branch which sways along the way .
It’s so longing for those leaves it lost to restore its beauty some day .



Ah you say beauty is in everything,
it’s just what you don’t see ,
It’s charms it’s flaws. ,
It’s brittle and weak ,
but still in everything I see .

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

How cold now Autumn has arrived who’s stare is still and full of lies
Who’s smile is hollow and masks his face which once was full of love
and grace .
Now Autumns chill has taken his frown and some sad clowns turned it upside down .
Now in his dreams he won’t awake and if he does his life might take.?
There’s nothing left but open doors and rooms so familiar yet never
seen before .
That house when you were a child seemed so small ,
now you walk in corridors never seen before .
Coffee cups biscuits and cake all sat around tables and chairs .Napkins  folded with scowls and grins and awful things .

With acid frowns we stand around and hope one day like NorseViking gods  sail to greener shores and plunder gold behind bolted doors .
As if Mercury has an iron core and either side hides love and war ?
As if water flowed from either side and my heart could draw from
evening tide their echoes live ever on .
And God in his splendid rise banish all these godless lies ,
and i might dream of love again.
Recite Byron , Poe and Keats  to all my friends ,
in gardens with band stands ,
and tea served out of China pots into china cups and saucers .



  So to the one who keeps my heart in a locket on her breast ,
her words I sing when the black ravens call ,
and holds my heart in jest . .
and Autums leaves must they fall it is love that binds them all .

A water droplet from a rose bush ,
Once fell onto the ground ,
for once it had withered
starved and died .
it’s form was unrecognisable ,
from its romantic story books of love .
Where the fine Prince offered up a rose ,
to his princess with the flickering eyes
Two lovers hand in hand ,
looked up into paradise ,
as two lover birds perched on high sang softy. their  Song of love .

Nobody wanted to pick its buds ,
nobody pruned it’s stem .

Untill  a little girl with a watering can ,
and a red ribbon in her hair ,
came along and with a song , filled it full of love .

Each flower bloomed ,
and she name each colour
by its looks .
This ones pink ,
that ones yellow ,
now what shall I do with you ?

The last rose said
Well I can make you cry
With joy ,
or I can make you very  sad ?
But If your friend can fill your heart with all these things now
That won’t be so bad ?

Well my boyfriend name is red ,
so  name  you after him ,
You will be my pride and joy ,                                                               and I will teach you how to sing,
leave you in my mothers vase ,
and water you with love .

For I shall never let you wither and die ,
and you will fill our hearts with
Joy .

Then one day Reds roots began to wilt ,
and Red  the boyfriend played with his red little truck ,
more than gardening with Liv .
Their friendship died and the rose was thrown  out into  the bin ..

For love is such a fragile thing it’s petals aren’t meant to last .
But when it does what joys it brings ,
to everybody’s hearts.

Before me lies what once was red ,
It's beauty before me lies a deeper shade ,
than the blood inside my veins .
For no flower could ever bloom where Icarus fled .

No Cole fires flicker their ember light ,
to where twilight might glow ,
or black kite steal into the night with fire light and my Cole
Of flickering flame .
Into a black Forrest gatoe so dense it needs no light .

Was it by grace or my sin this coal fire spread ?
How could I be more loved ?
Or what if like an earthling I stepped behind the curtain only to burn
In holy fire ?
What lies behind why are men scattered like ants so terrified like worms ?

If Daedalus was right and the sea and oceans with their monsters
Within should consume me ,
and I should fall with feathered wing to meet my fate ,
or get burnt by the sun ?

To one life raft I cling ,
Sprinkled blood ,
as white as snow ,
as pure as water ,
I kneel .
My rose I pick from frozen ground ,
a clap of thunder ,
a shuddering quake ,
a curtain torn in two .

How could my hands with red cells heal and fill my hands with warmth and blood again ?
How could i be even more cherished than this cherry on any iceing cake ?

.

Serth the red skies they give not a stick or a stone ,
that loves great harbour should build us a home .

Where magpies mock and steal ,
a ring through my window went ,
on the beek of a bird ,
all black and white ,
without lament .

That ring that I had on.my dresser would ,
Stick us together like concrete and glue.

It was a ring that without words that read ,
with all my heart I will worship you .
But  now the bird has stolen it instead .

So will the skies O blessed thing ,
before I die ever return my ring ?

It gavest us pleasures like ,
walking together in the rain ,
but as red skies are above ,
and silver lightning strikes ,
tis my shutters I close to hide me away at night .

And if that magpie should ever return , to bar and bolt ,
It shall not take ,
the love in my heart ,
for it is with that that I wed ,
not symbols of gold or cotton or thread !
But with ever lasting sweetness and joy ,
the bird can’t take ,
or mend or do ,
or sow together me and you .
that which is in my heart I employ ,
to do such a task to stitch us together ,
untill  our  words do not rhyme.

O  for silver  then shall I wait untill dawn ?
For what did I see on my newly mowed lawn ?
A heart made of silver a locket with a picture of you ,
with a red sky sunrise ,
that’s forever thinking of you .

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

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

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

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

The people gathered all around ,
to see the Spector that had fled,
when the sun went down .
With forks and anything else they could find ,
so to save the sick ,
the lame ,
and the blind .

Far in the distance the red sky a blaze ,
set alight by the suns burning rays .

For every night just before sundown ,
Ghostly apparitions were seen in the town .

They came to gawp ,
they came to stare ,
so poets could dream ,
and write without care .

And so the red wing which looked for bugs on the ground
soon spread its wings
amugst the wind and the snow, and the foul ,
and when it left it could not be found ..

And so darkness fell on this land from dawn to night when the
Sun went. down ,
and spread from afar ,
Untill the morning light .
they just wore masks to dig a hole for their dead ,
into a pit their bodies layed .

And so the ghosts with their gawps and stares ,
we’re only there to help the folk in their prayers .
And when they had left the boils and the **** ,
that clung to their throats ,
and ****** all their blood ,
left without warning as the red wing sang .

So the child who had the fever and the sores ,

could live and breath and shout and scream
and dance for the joy of the Lord .