Slipstreams of Angels

Without your smile I cannot fly
Without your touch I cannot cry
but beneath your gaze I soar with joy
and rising draughts of love draw forth
the courage now to love and rise
resplendent in the shining skies
and then together we will watch
and stretch our hands to try to touch
the passing grace we honour so
great lights that shine on hearts below
Slipstreams of angels undertake
to draw we lovers in their wake

The elections are done and dusted
the results are all squared up
the cliched media champagne shots
while you drink from the victory cup

So a pretty good vote for the SNP
and a chance to pick a path
a referendum for Scotland's New Age
Cameron thinks you're having a laugh

But could an independent Scottish state
flourish North of the border
For Downing Street it would really grate
causing anguish and disorder

At home in the land of my fathers
our nationalism is awful
jobs for the boys expenses used to buy toys
so much ****** useless waffle

Our status there is lower than yours
oh boy it is such a pity
at least you are a country
not a poor ****** principality

So with hope for a bonny new future
your oil and renewables may help
you need political class and a boot up the ***
If you fail them the voters will yelp

So now you are into the parliament
Southern Scotland is your new domain
I am sure you won't fail to keep hot on the trail
of a future that's bright once again

Poor Wee Hare

Poor wee Hare at the side of the road
deid on the side wi yon dirt
ye should be lain on a bed o flooers
as ye faded so awfy hurt

A car must have hit yer  span yer roon
his lichts did blin ye gaze
ye didnae even see yon doom
cut doon frae ye free running days

Spring's dreaming rush unfolds before my eyes
unlooked for light and life's hope all renewed
eager shoots that set their faces to the skies
We strive to climb that bonds may be eschewed

Walk hand-in-hand amongst the breathing green
I begin to grow anew in spring's fresh light
and if I only flourish for a while
I have had a glimpse of something true and bright

Nesting Time

Jackdaws were gathering nest sticks today
excited with beaks full then flying away
Birds  picking the lint that I took from the dryer
with every piece the excitment got higher
Oh what a beautiful and simple sight
the pleasure they take in the joy of their flight
Each of their sticks and the lint is a treasure
I hope one day I can have such simple pleasures

Child on the Sand

Driven before the scouring wind
feather light and bloodied feet
how can a child fly so far and fast
what dread is it she fears to meet
Soft sand of summer play
now harsh the salt stings hard
but the salt in her tears
stings harder still

Her heart hammers
like the pounding of axes
on the body of her father
her gasps like those of her mother
when they held her down
But what she fears the most
the cold stillness of them all
when she crept back
crying in the dark

No grave or burning for them
left as they died before gloating priest
painted cross on broken doors
carved crosses on dead cold flesh
nails and fingers smashed
no spells left to cast
from her mothers hand
her final effort cast protection
over her youngest child

And now she is running
with the dogs and hunters
raging up from behind
and the white surf horses  
crashing down to her side
sweeping up over the stained sand
and as they surge they listen to her voice

~~

"Horses from the ocean
spirits of the sea
aid me in my time of need
help to keep me free
remember you my mother
all the healing from my kin
how we cared for all that breathed
the love we held within"

~~

The hunting pack is closing now
sharp claws tearing her bloodprint steps
men and beasts as one in their desire
to rend and tear and harm
this small child of peace and care
no hurt was ever in her mind
but now she runs with hollow fear
no mother left to hold her near

From far behind a pounding roar
like the pounding of the waves
but mixed now with the stamp of hooves
that come to chase and save
Whitest horses of the Sea
flying now upon the strand
racing in a mighty line
shake the very land

For all the ancient deeds now done
from this child's  line of old
they come to show their gratitude
to ancient vows they hold
No dogs or men can face such force
flashing hooves and streaming manes
and when the herd has run it's course
there is silence once again

But as the White Herd passes on
returning to the sea
no child now runs upon the sand
just one horse racing free

~*~

A Mother waits for coming dawn
and  the white mare from the sea
she watches how it circles her
so proud and strong and free
It stands before her straining
and she strokes and wipes it down
the queen of the Ocean Horses
she needs to bear no crown

And as the daylight comes to them
the horse brings forth new life
a naked form upon the ground
she gathered up from strife
Carried  far with gentleness
to a chosen mother's care
fear and running now are done
for the child born of the mare