We sit and stare
No conversation
To share,
Drinking slowly
Time going  slow
It’s like being in
An orchard  where
Apples don’t grow.
Closing the highways
Is not our thing
Our songs
had great
Lyrics and
we could sing,
So why our we staring
No talk to share
Let’s get them growing
Them apples and pears.

Im not doing
This tug of war,
It’s upsetting
The children
Thats for sure.
The rope we pull
when it breaks it’s
Going to be a
Hurtful mistake.
Can’t you see it’s
Not all about us.
All our friends
And children
have become
Nonplussed
Please my darling
Don’t shut the doors
Because all it
causes is
These tug
of wars,

Blackbird chirping
For his mate
What he didn’t know
It’s what the foxy ate.
Nature is a blissful place
When other creatures
Can eat your face.

A rose will blossom
In the month of June
As sure as the sands
Create the dunes.
The sun will shine
After the pouring rain
sure as the wolf
That howls in
the open plains.
Winter follows autumn
As the trees shed there leaves
As sure as the mouse that
Hunts for the cheese.
Everything living
Must take a breath
As sure as the wanderer
Who must rest.

There was a man called Dave
A man of not many words
One of his witty sayings was
You can’t polish a ****.
He Liked the smell of money
Told jokes dark and
humorously funny,
In his company
You would dare not to blink
You might have missed him
Trying to Buy you a drink.
He Liked a little flutter
Would gamble on a horse
More than usual lost
it was
Just A matter of course.
Worked as a lineman
They called him BT
Used to mend the phone lines
Yes For you and me,
A man for all seasons
A man for the girls
He will now be sorely missed
Now not in this world.

You’ve cast your line
Put up your sails
The sorceress of doom
With six inch nails.
Will I ever be free
From your flesh eating chains
Trapped in Your
idealism
Thats
Transfixed
my brain.
The only way out
Is sending you back to hell,
Alas I’ll be coming
with you
oh clucking well.

Tell me a story
Of truths and lies,
Lots of intrigue
With a web of spies.
Street corners and
Shady dives
Crooks and gangsters
Trying to stay alive.
Information being
Brought and sold
Gangland killings
Leaving victims cold.
Every black suit
Trying to make a buck
Headless chickens
Not giving a cluck.
As night follows day
And all said is done,
Nothing like a cup of tea
And a lovely currant bun.