illusions soil damp with summer rain
we are silence creeping softly
in halflight carrying a farthings worth of sugar
for his bitter tea and stale buttery breads
our stealth footprints leaning to the shadows trail us
the thick scents of tilled earth
and the fresher faster scent of rain
turn to whisper your hush-now's and stifle the laughter
tis serious things afoot in the majestic night

seed lain with casual grunts
by the farmers son come of age
till foolish boy reckons what hes done
but storm riding in and no time to dawdle
bread in the basket and skittles in the cookfire
whats to be done whats to be done
he sweeps his mistakes aside and plows onward
like his pappy would have done

illusions soil fertile
and fools will take to heart any tale
so we have come sneakin' and creepin'
to harvesting our due
in halflight carrying a farthings worth of sugar
for his bitter teas and stale buttery breads
feed the fools mind with all manner of delusion
and while we sit and sup in the heavenly scented field
the thick scents of tilled earth
and the fresher faster scent of rain
he will be singing and dancing a madwoman's jig
under a lunatic moon

rain day grey
all in the muscle of my head
flex it but the thoughts still there
running round an round in empty space
strong head weak heart
send my head on global tour round the block
sunbathing my moral compass
but it never tells me what i want to hear
that its ok to do all the fun stuff

rain day grey
and iv walked my muscle head all up and down
the reasons and rationalizations
and still cant wrap it round her face being so....
rain day grey
and my musclebound mind is workin' overtime
beating me up and runnin' me round
all this thinkin' done wore me out

hello...customer service...
id like a refund...this mind appears to be defective...

i was sleeping sweetly
till i heard strange sound
trumpets of some deadly thing approaching
a november cold wind in her eye
she walked a shadowy figurine on storm wracked road
as she walked slow and deliberate dressed all in black
she held a dozen bones of a bird that flew
she held a dozen bones of a man that ran
none escape her hand
not in noonday sun
or riding by the fog bound moon in the night
you can find her stirring pestilence on cookfire
along the river road
with the mother of all decay for company
she asked me in a frail voice
what is it that you see...what darkness binds me
i said all manner of beast crawls your pale skin
all manner of shadow calls your heart home
i said you are a walking open grave
she smiled and brushed cold finger on my lip
promise of a deep kiss
that made my very soul shudder
that made me howl in heart deep terrors
fled that dark dream with its tastes of death
fled here to noon day sun
long as i keep the sun overhead
maybe ill see her comin and run

one of the masters could have captured this for you
one of the great poets could have spoken to you
with such moving beauty
as to stir your soul
could have painted her sweet dignity
could have brought her soft smile home to you
and laid it gentle restless on your romantic heart
swept aside all but the truth to the sunlight
dancing on the fingertip of a blade of grass
watch it dance like sparkling stars come
magnificently to play in the midday meadow
watch the wind romance the trees
and dance laughing in her hair
as you are soul searching in her cool water mind

one of the great wordsmiths would have left you
sitting here with her hand in yours
feeling that kind warmth that leaves you feeling so alive
feeling the beauty of the forever moment in her sweet eyes
yes one of the great poets would leave you dancing
on cobblestone street at midnights majestic hour
with the laughing sinners and saints
back before such definitions divided
we were all just happy clowns
dancing and smiling for the sake of dancing and smiling
and so don't fear this
i am not one of the greats but i can spin a word or two
and i just want to see you happy once again
i will take you there
in my soft fashion
because i never seen you so happy
and that means more to me than mere words can say