There was a Scots soldier, Bill Millin
The sound of his bagpipes was thrillin'
The Germans thought how sad-
The poor man's quite mad-
We'll not waste a bullet on him then

I was born into flame
The son of parent stars
But stars burn out
And have to die
Leaving me,
The Dieing Embers
Of a dynasty
That used to rule the sky

I joined this site so as a poet
I could shine and grow
I call myself the Common Raven
But really I'm a crow

Mums and dads stroll past our pond
Hand in hand with little ones
They bring their dogs, some are old
Some are little pups
My parents they are mallards,
Nothing rare as such
So I was consequently
Inevitably raised by ducks

In heaven swearing is allowed
I didn't know, did you?
But someone went a bit too far
And turned the air quite blue
He was celestially expelled
It was the only thing to do
And now is known as
Angel of Profanity
To the likes of me and you

The family who had this house I know
They won't be coming back here though
A spark settled on the thatch
And burnt it down a year ago

The husband had already left
Her car turned over in the snow
The tears flowed as, bereft
Across the fields her dreams did blow

The old life gone, they have moved on
And we are here to put it back
So another family can come to live
Beneath its thatchy hat

In their discombobulated lives no matter what occurs
Mrs Um and Mr Er never quite concur
Continually at loggerheads
Sparring is their game
Life like this is normal now
Really it's a shame

Mrs Um for her hols wants to fly to Spain
Mr Er would prefer Turkey on the train

Mrs Um would like a dog, what he says to that
Is well now let me see, er, I think we need a cat

Where to put the cross this time
I don't know do you
Mrs Um votes red
Mr Er votes blue

So they end up doing nothing
As on nothing they agree
How they ever got together
Certainly beats me

Searching for words I fumbled and stumbled
Incoherently I mumbled
Eager to share the repartee
Trying too hard, too desperately

Now I know what I should have said
It really would have knocked 'em dead
They would have thought what a clever chap
If I'd come out with that

But it's too late unfortunately
The only one listening now
Is me

-  Winter is long
    But the sun shines
    In your art  -

A voice called me in from the garden
Coffee served for two
A voice called me in from the garden
I wished that voice could be you

A hand reached out in the darkness
To comfort and reassure
A hand reached out in the darkness
I wished that hand could be yours

In my dream you came to me
Your beautiful face I saw
You bade me rise to join you
And held me close as we danced round the floor

I felt your breath so warm on my cheek
As you whispered soft and sure
Live now for the living
Long for me no more