The good pushes its way to the outside
To stand on the shoulder of where once hidden
And cries in its sails
As it flies away into the eternal light

If good is willing it will find its home
But in its belief it has no place
It will never though return to the hidden
Just hang over the thought of the feeling

This burning golden sun
Will move its haze to the south
Your cherry covered dress
Pressed among the years hidden in the wardrobe
Flesh warmed in its nakedness
Becomes a covered mystery
Lift your feet from the ground
For the footprints in the snow
Will cool your bare feet

Listen
Can you hear the march of the Dreamers
Pressing gold into the hands of beggars
Seething sexless passion
They say with a closed tooth smile
My shout is the loudest thunder
Yours the sound of a stone in a tin can

Listen
Can you hear the march of the Dreamers
A storm in the palm of our hands
The waves crashing down the memories
Washing away the pleasure street
That held the seams together
We once loved ?

On the Calmest sea
The ocean is a beautiful lady
Clothed in a coat of colours
Golden in the sun
As diamonds shimmer mesmerising
Emotion comes in her waves
Like memories pushing and pulling to the welcoming shore

These eyes can hear the waves
These ears can see this reflection
I hope you dream sweet dreams
The moments where we let in life
Every breath is the last ?

This England rises an falls
It is the way of the reddest rose
To offer its unfortunate beauty
And whither and die
It's funeral is diarised
Voices raised in joy
Are tears against broken dreams

We watch the thunder in the sky
Listen to the lightenings cry
Feel the rain drops fall like dreams
Tears upon an open stream
Hold onto this moment
While the waves of life passes by
See the sunshine fall away
With hope it sees another day
What a voyage our lives can be
So set out to sea

Open the door into an avenue
Where words are formed
And fall onto the page
Black is the ink
That scars the writing
Facile is the thought
That is sent to offer
Stalled  is the sentence
All is not first in thought
Supercilious is the adjective
That threatens the poems simplicity

I write in the dark
I write in the light
A search for a synthetic twilight

Lived my life with eyes wide open
But since I have seen you
There is nothing left to see

For this I have no sight
But look upon love with a view
That's carries vision on

Lost between heaven is God
Somewhere between hell is God
Voice of the moon
Cries out with the joy of solitude
Is lonely are we lonely
Do we see with no eyes
Do we feel with no dream
How to live where love stands alone

Oh voice of the moon
Release me from this sea of despair
That I may see your face again
And feel your warm protection
Hold back the tears we feel
That will dry and fade
Perhaps heart give place to shine
God keep your sleep eternal

The Crimson heart bleeds lifeless
Weathered are we all
Torn and fettered
Broken to the faultless bone

The blue sun won't shine
Weathered are we all
Deformed and closed
Hopelessness to the scarred heart

The reddest sea waves the winter
Weathered are we all
Heartless and forbidden
Pleasure unknown informed be not

The colourless hope dreams
Weathered are we all
Crest fallen and lost
Hiding frontier of hatred love

The softest metal bends eternal
Weathered are we all
****** in deification
Screaming with a silence cold