Rainbow droplets
pitter patter

Paint splashes
splitter splatter

You'r canvas
a doorway
to the subconscious

Seem like some
must box or list
your's was
abstract expressionist.

When I was little
a voice in my head
said

“there’s a monster underneath the bed”

Not liking the fear that he gave
a part of me was his slave

I needed to be brave
Look him in the eye

It was time for a monster hunt
Not knowing the word confront

Eye’s closed.
Stick my head under the bed
Open up after one two three
There was nothing there to see!

There could be someone
who could change everything
helping us all to see

The light in the night
and the darkness in the day
not just one shade of Grey


There could be a call
that wakes us from our sleep
helping us all to see

The light in the night
and the darkness in the day
not just one shade of Grey

Everyday I put a moment away
believing this to be true
and as I try to think
through the swirling of the ink
something's surrounding me

The light in the night
and the darkness in the day
not just one shade of Grey

There could be a thought
that could change everything
gaining us
strength to see

The light in the night
and the darkness in the day
not just one shade of Grey

If I loose my way
through twisting of the day
colours fading away
I know all's not lost
as I start to see

The light in the night
and the darkness in the day
not just one shade of grey
not just one shade of grey

Cliff top meditations
the sea, she sings to you

The sun,
shadows left
their mark,
as she cut
through
the dark

blue sky sprites
everywhere
dancing
to
mothers
symphony

Drink, drink, drink,
drink it all in
nature is everything!
no dividing line
no in
no out.

The prisoner
resides inside a cell,
the bricks, constructed
from the past

The bars
each one a different
regret,
I should have........
She should have.........
We should have..........
They should have......

Escape is possible
the light shines through
the bars

Paroled into the present
released into the hear and now,
the future with no bars.

The widow’s son
My father in me lives on

In Solomon’s temple
there was a key
In my fathers house are many mansions
That the blind do not see.

Making up
you'r own story

A lonely path
to chose

But the best
one to take,
despite
the homesick blues.