I put off opening the *****
cos I knew it wouldn't last long
sometimes I prefer to get it wrong,
but sha-la-la a typical song.
You see the beer's all gone
and I don't trust myself
with old sea dog ***,
it stinks like an oil drum
and never knows when to leave me alone.
Some nights are made for drinking
turning  :-(  into a  B-)
but hold on
the ***** is starting to kick in
guess I'm ;-) till I pass out before dawn.
in the mean time tra-la d-dum dum dum

Attractive women still hook my eye
stir a spurt of blood from an instinctive side,
but they lost the power they once had to drive me wild
and vacated the thoughts where they used to reside.
Guess I'm now more drawn to those who have an attractive mind.

In the darker place
where a man can be crushed,
taunts haunt
betrayal of trust
each echoed word steps
a ragged booted stomp,
one per breath of rust,
there  
the shackles that restrain
also hold me up.

Scattered light
mottles through the rank of trees
reigning over the aisle between fields
in royal stainglass arcs of protection.
The wheat is young and green
though stretches tall enough to dance under the influence of wind's song
and conceal
scurrying mouse, hare
and proud breasted pheasant
from hunters gun and farmers dog.
No echoed shots ring out today
only the call of birds
seeking twig and thistledown
to weave chalice cupped homes
high up in the throne of trunk,
out of view
from all but the few
who come to seek solitude.

The cost of a dream
castrates it
uneven
unclean
sharp as a window's peak
or the mock of hindsight
is it because it's a selfish thing
to want what is wanted?
Can we allow ourselves
to be purely happy
without the inevitable afterthought
of why is there always a price,
or anxiously expecting negativity?
Perhaps it's just me...
unless the dream is for another.