Is it Trump
Or Lump
Or Clump
I'm not quite very sure
But what really bothers me now
Is when the reds come knocking at my door
Don't be disabled, Muslim or even yet a girl
Because the life that once you knew
Will end up in the depths of hell
Yes he said I'll build a wall to keep
Hispanics out
But now its just become a fence
Trump is such a lout

I sit here on this lonely windswept ridge
Overlooking a wild place
Of peathag and bog and wild heather
Of outcrops of gritstone rock
Standing like rotting teeth
In ravished gums
Bleak and dreary in the rain
But still a place to be loved
Hardy sheep graze the barren slopes
Watched over by equal hardy men and dogs
Out in all weathers
I'm lucky
Because I know the tracks and trails
Crossing this wild land
I know the streams of fresh water
And the sanctuary for my nights rest
In my small lightweight tent
This is wild Yorkshire
As yet an unspoilt place

I want to sit on the stoop with the good old boys
A scraggy old hound sat by my feet
To Chinwag about the good old days
When in the noonday sun we'd sleep
Of walking in the mountains
Of drinking from fresh streams
Not worried about the deer ****
But just living out our dream
Those days are now but memories
Just long held distant dreams
Now we just sit and reminisce
With my old dog at our feet

.
Honeybees, birds and blooms unfurl
an enchanting spell
when spring comes by here

Memories waft 'neath burled rustic trellis
where flowered tendrils grasp fleshly
like the newness a love once tenderly embraced

Songbirds in your garden sing
of swooning memories rapture.., of velvet eyes,  
the fragrant spicy nectar hidden within her walls                            

A song of honeyed bees'  sweetest stinger,
and the poignant ***** of intoxicating surrender
lingers, bemused spellbound by a thorny heirloom rose

Sharp beauty beloved like a blameless trap
caught blissfully, breathlessly inbetween
all you wish for and all your wanton needs

Desire 's wellspring an unspoken passion
coquet swollen buds adorn blossoming,
sensual, untamed carnal grace

A picture perfect natural beauty;
sunlit chassé … feathered brush, demure blush
dancing with basket of lace petal’d perfume

For to colour a heart's blank pages
rapt in the poesy a joyous ecstasy ..,
enrapture with rainbow's luscious taste

What seems lost is but a tender vestige unfound
a passing moments innocence lost
to steal away like rumors of gold

These silent reveries seep from a hole in my heart,  
as if ripe strawberries of yore, gently weeping sweetness
when pricked by a thorny rose  

The ides of spring do still bleed a timeless ache
onto the page ... sweet naivety stung
by a mesmerizing dart to the heart

Songbirds in your garden do sing
of sweetest things immersed in nature's nectar
blissful memories sleeping in the petals of a rose



Sung to the wind by a song sparrow — ♪ ♫...✩ ☼✩ ✩☺✩

Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
None will ever live to  see age twenty four
None of them even  know what they're fighting for
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war

The world has always been this way
With Emperors and Kings
Fighting with toy soldiers
And the glory that it brings

Land, beliefs, religion
The basis of the war
fought by young toy soldiers
Who all die by the score

Time has taught us nothing
But, it's changed the way we fight
War is a full day job
Now that it is fought at night

The boards of little armies
Are now shown up on the screen
With all the little soldiers
Lit in different shades of green

They used to be all metal
Painted up in nice bright shades
With a General on horseback
Leading all his smart brigades

Then, the men were plastic
glued to bits of wood
Behaving as a unit
Just like a soldier should

Now, the war is different
They're up there in different hues
You can watch them fight in real time
Just like on the nightly news

The only thing remaining
The thing that's stayed the same
Is that nobody in power
Know the Little Soldiers names

Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
None will ever live to  see age twenty four
None of them even  know what they're fighting for
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war