More I the fool, for wasting time, for writing verse for writing rhyme
I should use my time for those who follow, as did Zeus as did Apollo
Like the god of truth and prophecy, I prepare for those that see
There is no secret rendezvous, no tryst, or hidden fond adieu
Just words set out as I see things, my look on life and all it brings
I write of nature how we abuse it, I try to show how we can use it
I write of love, its joy and pain, I write of children who cry in vain

More I the fool to think that I can show the way to happiness
Its in your hands, how things will be, if we succeed if we progress
So take this world, its for the young, not for us poets all unsung
But if you read what I have writ, more I the fool to think to quit
For if one word, one verse, one rhyme, should make you think
More I the fool, I waste no time.

I wake to touch the September morning chill
The early dew glistens in the mornings hue; it softens the low mist that abounds
A fox scurries away after his night of slaughter
Whilst mushrooms make their early morning rounds, only to disappear before the dew dries

As the day takes over from the dawn
Crows proclaim their territory and squabble with the rooks
The last murmurs of the morning chorus end its melodious run
A field mouse hurries away and awaits to coming of the warming sun

This September morn sends a shiver down my spine, its beauty personified by its stillness
My breath, fogs the air like a puff of smoke that mingles with the early morning mist
Only to lose its authority to the surrounding break of day haze

Crunching sounds of each step echos on the frosty grass, leaving a first impression
The only clue that I had walked this way before
Soon many will follow to hide my trace, as in my life, my achievements are marred by those more worthy of recognition
September morn I cry out to you: Be my inspiration, and warm me with your promise of the day ahead

Too soon I will bewail your passing, to soon will Mother Nature cast her winter cloak
But I know you will return once again to thrill me with your splendour
I will awake once more to touch your morning chill

The deep deep crimson  of my rose
hides its sharp protective thorns
to guard against the hand that might cut it
In its beauty, a tear trickles from deep within
to show it has a hidden feeling
from the outside you don't see
the emotions and fears.

The deep deep crimson  of my rose hides its sharp protective thorns to guard against the hand that might cut it.
In its beauty, a tear trickles from deep within to show it has a hidden feeling, from the outside you don't see the emotions and fears.

Dragonfly with wings of Blue, what makes me wonder just like you
You hover over a yellow flower, mesmerized by her power
I see myself attracted to, the colours of life, just like you
Something bright will pull me in, to take my light deep deep within
Oh dragonfly Oh dragonfly lets savour life, just you and I

It was our first kiss, nothing wild or licentious just a touch of moist warm lips
Coming together for a fleeting moment then parting
In that instant, a thousand wishes flooded in to fill a void It seems I had been longing for, waiting for, wanting for

My life balanced and tilted towards a happiness I never dreamed could be
We looked into each others eyes not a word spoken
I knew in that moment it was the same for her
A knowing perceptive smile began to form, as I drew her to me and kissed her once more

The day he died his music kept on playing
He lived his life on a plateau of insignificance
Moving from one failed love affair to another
Each time pledging it would be the last
He had only felt true love the one time
A helpless impossible love
A love which had metamorphosed into another kind of love
A love of friendship and compassion
And his music played on
The music was his heart and soul
A kind of music that kindled a fire, within us all
Music of words and feelings, open to all.
Those that listening to the music, those that allowed it to encompass them
Would feel it too
And his music will play on