Dead of night just as rehearsed
so many times o'er England's green fields
D Company, show no fear
A band of brothers flying high
Families waiting, home fires burning
Hoping to see their brave men once more

Gliders silent, Deadstick begins
Pegasus and the Sword await their fates
Take bridge and beach at any cost
Enemy waiting, will not go gently
They must be ours
Must be taken

Battle hard, blood is spilt
Both sides lose good friends, brothers
Success is ours but at a price
But we all know freedom is
The most precious thing we have

Pegasus Bridge, Sword Beach,
just 2 of many places
etched on our memories today
It all began here, liberation
70 years ago this very night
Brave young men
Strong and true

We give our thanks, god bless them all

For fifteen years it served me well
through rain and wind and snow
But I decided that it was the time
and the poor thing had to go
I think of all the miles done
in its company
Fishing trips
and foreign trips
and holidays at home
But it had reached its sell by date
its usefulness expired
So I threw it in my fire pit
onto the funeral pyre

Thus I bid my old hat a last farewell

The silky blue and the silky green
The rocks and the rubble
The browns and the greys

The orange flower pots filled with peat
Flowers reaching out their buried roots
wildly drinking up the silky blue-
speckled white with rain-buckets full

There roams the cattle big family group
across the silky green munching as they go
Calves kicking up their heels frolicking
in the dewy wet grass their carpet and their breakfast

Where does man-flesh fit passing as he does each day brief
One could be gardener seeing to the silky green
Another predicting weather out the silky blue
One digs up grey rocks out the brown for building walls-
To help the farmer herd his cattle

Another sits recording a passing scene forever changing
Forever the same forever one passing hour
One passed moment a time recorded gone
His pen finally falling silent.

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.

During the very earliest 1900s
A little boy walked a gravel road
With his grandfather.

The old man kept whittling him
Birch shoots that he whipped at
Weeds with, before he threw them

Aside; ready for another. "Cut me a
Whip, grandpa." "Cut me another."
The old man obeyed smiling.

The man was my great-great
Grandfather. The boy,
My grandfather's oldest brother.

I grew up walking
Those same gravel roads.
Whipping.

High on the mountain, overlooking the valley,
the valley where I was born, is a wooden bench.
Standing to attention are the bottom of the deep V
are houses, all the same, all in a row.
From the bench the village can be watched
It's comings and goings, the neighbours gossiping
talking about nothing and everything.
Everyone is there down below,
John the butcher, Dai the milk, Mair the bread,
Oliver's shop, where anything and everything was for sale.
A picturesque Welsh valley, where everyone is actually
Psychotic, and where you'll never leave except in a coffin feet first.
Those of us that get out, stay out.
Old feuds still burn, families not talking,
not remembering how it started.
Chocolate box prettiness masks the tension,
the hate, the jealousies, the negativity held
in the ***** of the valley.
How green was my valley?
It wasn't green, it's colour was red, like a hell fire.
Oh, the trees were green, the mountain was glorious
but that valley was poison.

Janice wore
the lemony dress
her gran had bought her
for being good

at the dentist
it had a bow
at the back
and flower patterns

here and there
I never got a dress
when I went
to the dentist

I said
you're a boy
she said laughing
mind you

I was promised a trip
to the seaside
in the summer
but I think

we were going anyway
so it wasn't much
of a gift or bribe  
I said

we walked on
by the Duke of Wellington
(public house)
and under

the iron railway bridge
which made loud noises
when the trains
went across

especially the steam trains
Gran said
not to get
the dress *****

or I’ll be for it
Janice said
I never asked Janice
why she lived

with her gran
and not her parents
my mother said
best not to ask

so I didn't
where we going?
Janice asked
I thought maybe

Bedlam park
we can watch kids
playing football
or watch those

in the swimming pool
or the tennis players
Janice said
it was a good idea

and so we went
on our way
I can get us
some ices

I said
have you some
money then?
she asked

sure I have
never come out
without a least
a few coins

I said
have to do a few chores
but at least
I get a few coins

to spend  
Gran gives me money
now and then
if I've been good

Janice said
but have you money now?
I asked
no

she said
can't have been good then
can you?
I said smiling

I’m always good
she said
but Gran can't always
afford to give me coins  

we crossed over
by the traffic lights
and went on our way
into St George's Road

I told her about
maybe staying
with my aunt and uncle
in Wraxall

where's that?
she asked
near Bristol
in Somerset

I said
what will you do there?
last time I went scrumping
with my cousin

is it countryside?
she asked
yes
there are cows

and sheep
in the fields
and mushrooms grow
there too

Janice asked about
the place and who
lived there
and asked questions

upon questions
as girls tend to do
once they get going
and I thought

of the chickens
my uncle kept
at the bottom
of his garden

which he let me fed
when I stayed
and fed them worms
and other stuff

Uncle gave me
but I told Janice
about holding the worms
in between my fingers

she ******* up
her nose
and said
she'd never want

to hold
one of those
then we came
to Bedlam park

and went in
and was reminded by her
to keep her
lemony dress clean

so we avoided
the swings and slide
and just looked in
from the metal fence outside.

And would that be it?
would that be how
it was with him?

And to think
it was as if
nothing was wrong

and that maybe
there would be
another day
to follow

and he'd
be there still
and rain would fall
and clear
and the sun
would come out
and shine
as it often did

and the people
on the ward
would be kinder
to each other
or not
as the case turned out

but I thought things
would be fine
and that he'd be
there all

sitting upright
and happy
and that I'd
bring him home

but it was not
that way at all
he sat there
kind of hunched over
catching his breath
puffed and bluey dark

and I asked
the questions
he said
and seemed so calm
and not uptight

as if it was
always like this
the hands and arms
the skin
the eyes looking
but not doing so

and looking back
there was lingering
unknown to us
over his shoulder maybe
pushing out
his breath
silently
that sinister
unseen
slippery death.

You enshadow all
Beneath
You
Floating like fluid in
Liquid flutter in
Slow motion

A ghost in water
Framed with daylight
Dancing on
Underwater waves
The most beautiful dead
Object in the
World

I am an alien in
Your realm  
Unarmed against the forces of
Your otherworldly
Guise
As

I bow unto You  
As Poet
As Poet and unbreathing
Man