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They Bombed our town.
And left it scattered
Our City destroyed
Our Windows shattered.
The plane's they came
Buildings start falling
People are lost
The injured are crawling.
Seems this is the price
For the victims of a war
Blowing up homes
Like never before.


Now all of a Sudden
That peaceful sound
A dove from above
No war to be found
This deadly time takes a turn
No more that dreaded sound.
Now we look to the future
With hopeful glee
And wish for that peace too stay
Let us wait we will see
Tomorrow is another day.
So as this war ends and passes
And again we will be free
To rise again from the ashes
A saddened price for victory.
When we look at all those towns and city's Bombed
And brought to ruin.It is almost like ä Miracle how they rise again
When wars come to an end.
-attributed to Stalin
           in a note forbidding the arrest of Boris Pasternak

Stalin and Caesar had no use for dreamers
Stern men of destiny prefer strong tools
To execute their leader’s will, and yet
They cry and beg when they are eventually shot

Cloud-dwellers camouflage themselves with words
And shift their sails but not their souls, and keep
Their little ships on course straight to the stars
Straight on until the dawn they help to light

Courage is in your dreams and words and works
May it please God that Stalin has no use

For you
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
It was impossible, it seemed to me,
that twilight came so swiftly;
And with it coolness of the night,
and relief from restless drifting.

Wrapped in a towel of perspiration,
I lay on the desert's mounds of sand;
The crescent moon became my friend,
while watching it curve just like my hand.

But whispering wraiths arrived to haunt,
my vivid dreams of black and white;
Exposed to the darkness up above,
where nothing appeared quite right.

The moon dissolved in silent tears,
while shedding its silver sheen;
And with a touch of Merlin's wand,
gathered waters so clear and clean.

The desert rain fell with intent,
to wash away my mortal dread;
Dripping down from the crescent's mirror,
to reflect upon my earthly bed.

When I awoke it was eerily quiet,
the towel around me had dried;
No longer alone in a desert world,
I reached up and touched the sky.
Caught in the waves of confusion
Tossed and turned and disillusioned
Pessimism and criticism
Making choices and wrong decisions.
Storms are rising whirlwind winding
Lost in the clouds no place for hiding
Playing this game of tug of war
No one in agreement anymore.
What we need is a meeting of minds
It is a must with these changing times
But change will never come to be
With this strange old world called reality.
For now we all can have a vision
Before we face the final collision
So never throw your hopes away
The colloidal course can stay at bay.
No need to fight against the tide
And get lost within the ocean wide
Let's  board upon that passing fleet
And let it take us where waters meet.
So much division in this world with all differant views  
Will we ever find unification ore common ground.
Will one day Our raging seas find a fountain where waters meet
Together on this earth we live
The animals and human kind
It's mostly take and rarely give
With mankind's selfish mind.
Take a look at the animal kingdom
A very large world indeed
But there's really no compassion
When it comes to human greed.
Tigers are in danger. We see it on the news
The elephants soon to be extinct
Fighting a battle they only can lose.

But we are mighty humans
In this world of more wants more
Then many folk are fuming
We all should be appalled.
Just look at all our nation's
We are mighty and we are strong
We act with no hesitation
That's why many get it wrong .
Now there is no logical reason
For those strange things that some do
The animals deserve there freedom
For this world is their world too.
Many animals Elephants tigers the list goes on
Not forgetting dolphins and other creatures of the sea
Soon to be gone it we fail to take heed of there plight.
He was known as Mr meadows
A man I knew so well
His past now left in the shadows
His story's he would seldom tell.

He was wounded in the trenches
In that deadly first world war
He was humble sincere and sensitive
Like no man I have Known before.

He was good and so kind hearted
He was there when one felt  down
And always around when needed
You would see him in the town.

That was many years ago
He died aged seventy two
He lived within his Bungalow
In a row of just a few.

Mr Meadows lived for others
He was never a selfish man
He would always help those mother's
Who would struggle with a pram.

Mr Meadows was the quite kind
He hardly would say a word
He kept his thoughts inside his mind
His fears were rarely heard.

You may just start to wonder
What's so special about this man
When you felt you were going under
He would be there to take your hand.
Mr Meadows i remember well an unassuming gentle man
You could say somewhat a timïd man .some people used to
Take advantage of his gentle nature.not realising  he was involved
In the first world war battles.I feel he must of suffered from the affects
Of the horrors of war.
all monsters and adrenaline now
mad rush to inhale speed
lest life not deliver

yet in bygone days
when dames beguiled
soft curls and porcelain skin

or polished ebony
an ancient fire stirred
in embers aflame

men knew chivalry
their gender sure
dames held a different power

liquid eyes and innocent air
where no words were needed
to touch dreams' *******
Inspired by Christopher Victor Russon's nostalgic poem 'Those Talking Pictures'
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