Love can be lonely
When you're in love with love

On this day 70 years ago they stormed across the sand
Boys of many nations to remove the tyrants hand
Heros all those boys so young who shed their blood for us
In that ****** fight for freedom

Across the sand they struggled neath a hail of shot and shell
Never glancing backwards as around them comrades fell
Fear was in their eyes, terror in their hearts
Many never made it and twas on foreign sand they died

Yes they died to give us the freedom that we have got this day
They died to free the world, for us they made the play
Boys from ever walk of life crossed the beaches there
Office clerks and farmers and the ones who cut our hair

Yes they were heroes all who gave their lives for us
But lets not forget the few who made it possible
The girls who made the shells, the men who built the tanks
They were the unsung heroes
They have also have earned our thanks

Without their dedication to the task they had in hand
Many more would have lost their lives on that shell torn blood stained sand
They to can hold their heads up high, they knew they did their bit
In bringing freedom to the masses when they broke the tyrants grip

Breath of life, it is a wild ocean
always a tide coming and going
in this place, it does not linger long
never holding on, only drifts quietly into night
into stars, into fleeting sparks of fire flies
or in the night waters, a ghostly glow
of phosphorescence, a transient trail
of luminescence that soon
fades and reappears to light
the deepest depths
of sea

there is, lying within my soul,
an elusive dissatisfaction...
like the loss...of a red balloon,
floating up to the air...
and you, almost have a hold the string....
but then,  the balloon is not there.
it is gone.

it is like that aftertaste,
of the best meal....lobster, butter, brandy, garlic.
still tasty, on memories tongue.
but the restaurant, closed
and the recipe...long gone

it is that moment, remembered, of just we two,
of pristine blue water salty, manta rays dancing ballet and fish and coral and crab
sheer under water bliss...
but now, standing in cold winter rain....knowing,
you'll not soon know that connection  again....

it is knowing, that while
i can see your face
and hear you speak....
these are just, soundbytes, from the history we keep.

it is grief, and it comes
and it goes.....
it is sadness, wearing
the reaper's clothes.....
it is knowing, you are gone
and no-more.....

it is my late night tears,
quietly, falling to wood floor.

In the night garden, star flowers linger
long before dawn, before the sun
vines climb, with ivory flowers hung
bringing light, where the moon glows pale
flowered jasmine is sweet beneath the air of fire
with lanterns lit in floral scents
glowing through diaphanous petals
here, where the earth shines like heaven
and blooms not unlike the stars.

The gentle breeze
played guitar
Struting the greeen strings;
The jolly rain
did ballroom dance
To welcome the glowing moon.
I lingered in the meadows
to drink eternal ecstasy
as she shook away her scarf.