The light that gives sight to our eyes.
With every morning sun will rise.
Rise and fall,
above our heads.
Burning like the toasted bread.
The burning fire in the heart,
the one that warms us in the dark.
The flame that weather's every gale,
the gentle waves as we set sail.
The voyage that is there to seek,
is hard to find throughout the week.
Yet know that it is always waiting,
watching, heart and mind debating.
Waiting for the sun to shine,
rising deep within your mind.

Darkness hiding in the tree's.
A lonely crossroads.
No man's land.
Ancient rituals.
Ancient tortures.
Blood,
upon the soil
and sand.

Through the hills,
a shadow seeker.
Seeking out somewhere to lie.
A lonely soul,
lost with the seasons.
Underneath
a blood red sky.

And as the blood dries,
on the tarmac.
A winning smile, a wicked fate.
Gypsy ghosts,
no longer vocal.
Shadows waiting
at the gates.

Through the hills,
a shadow seeker.
Lost upon the darkness still
A lonely soul,
Lost with the seasons,
Forever lost
and wandering.

An ode to my sweet *****,
the grace beneath each step she takes.
She's like the sun that lights the day,
A swan upon a sacred lake.
Her eyes illuminate
the night.
Shining with the silver moon.
She's there with every
breath I take.
The melody in every tune.

Silent echoes in the air,
with every word that isn't shared.
Those words that hide, within your heart,
the ones that make you fall apart.
The sorrows that you once leaned on,
thank the Lord, for now there gone
There's sparrows singing, within my soul
as everything learns how to grow.

The magic of child's sweet smile,
the innocence within.
The light that they bring to our world
without a sin to sing.
Their reason and their wonder,
should never be ignored.
Lighting before the thunder,
rainbows as it pours.

That wind that blows
against the crows
ruffled feathers in the snow.
The field mouse burrowed,
keeping warm,
waiting out, the Winters storm.

And then at last
as darkness fades,
slowly Spring will take the reigns.
Light returning to the days,
colours spring
once more from shade.
Slowly, as the Winter fades.

Hold me as I sleep tonight,
kiss me as I slip away.
Deep within the the realms of dreams,
lie with me and end today.
Pray for me and my poor soul,
but know I love you more each day,
I'm sorry for the hurt and pain,
sorrier that I can't stay.
That darkness that has followed me,
has failed to bring those brighter days.
I'm sorry that we ever met!,
sorrier that I cant stay.

So the school bags are gone.
Summers sweet songs,
sweeps through the village,
the Sports Day is on.
The egg and the spoon,
the three legged race,
Mrs McGinty ends up on her face.
The children delight
a comical sight,
her legs in the air
those old tartan tights.

Those days,
that simplicity,
the little things, that stay with me.
Those clear skies,
I remember still,
the easiness
and sweet free will.

She told him..
"We're all Stardust!
" That's what we are
all made of!
She told him...
"never worry"......
.......
"Worry
  always
     proceeds the fall."

She led him through the chambers.
The hidden places lost within.
Where she tries to find herself,
where she always dreams of him.

Sometimes...,  
only nightmares.
Past horrors
mixed with yesterday.
Sometimes,
love and wonder.
The feeling,
that all is OK.

The lonely streets of Dublin.
The fear of sleeping all alone.
She would wonders
if he's happy now.
She wonders if he's
on his own.

That old wooden painted box.
Faint yellow stars engraved within.
Held the letters to her heart,
the scriptures of her life of sin.
It held the ribbons
that once tied
another side of her sweet life.
Now she plays the blushing bride,
now she plays the faithful wife.
But every night she wanders,
to a place inside her mind.
Staring out the window,
dreaming of another time,
with that old wooden painted box,
yellow stars engraved within.
She breaths for every moment,
every second, that she spent with him.

Sunflowers,
growing tall,
bringing life to that dull wall.
Reaching up towards the Sun,
flowering for everyone.
Bringing seeds and oil to harvest,
paintings from a demented soul,
the kind of one who falls the hardest,
upon life and everyone.
Nature coursing through the madness
bringing new light with the dawn,
but every star is stalked by darkness
making it shine all the more.
Until its flame is quenched by powers
A force much stronger than us all.
We'll just sit and watch the madness,
and those Sunflowers by the wall.

Swallows sing, I  swallow that bitter pill.
Light reflects off cutlery,
and everything is still.
Shadows crawl, and then fall off the wall.
The sun that shun
when we we're young,
was big and now it's small.
The memories, cast in a golden light,
but memories can change in time,
depending on our flight.
Our hope, still sheltered with our love.
Forms the sense of who we are,
forms the sense of us.

The Cut.
The Cold.
The feel of Steel.
The sharpness,
that keeps it all real.
The feelings,
pulsing through your veins,
as you try to smile in vain.

The Love.
The Hate.
The need for words.
The hope,
that everything is pure.
The darkness
curtaining the light,
as the day gives way to night.

The Morn.
The Dawn.
The waking soul.
Shaking,
falling through the floor.
The path,
the one, that leads you home,
will always be, the one you own.

The Spanish navy strong enough,
maybe too strong for their worth.
Led with the cross and then the sword.
Never questioning their Lord.

The infantry, the Tudor reign,
grabbing at what's there to gain,
As history repeats itself,
living as a helpless serf.

The Tribesman who once conquered all,
dying with the lions roar.
As history repeats itself,
nothing ever making sense.

The Christians, Jews,
Muslims, all,
each one shall forever fall.
Upon their blades,
those raised in hate,
Each one to their own sweet faith.

So Many pseudoskeptics
in a world that's ****** hectic.
We're drowning in their slurry
without an antiseptic
Its Cancerous
how much they chance on us.
The cure is in the garden,
but they're killing all the plants on us.
Traditions and renditions
of stories and of ways.
They're being lost
diluted,
polluted,
as we graze away.
Like Cattle,
the battle
seems lost before its fought,
forgetting all the lessons
which mother earth has taught.
We're slipping
and we're tripping,
and I hope the landings soft.
I hope to leave a world behind
where hope is never fraught.

It happened in the blink
of a weary old eye.
The flutter of an admirals wings.
It was never remembered,
but never to die.
Like rain that falls
to the grace of the sea.

It was when he took shore leave in Java.
Under tropical skies and thunderous clouds.
When the Devil brushed passed his shoulder,
then melted away back into the crowd.

He knew he'd been touched by evil.
As the hairs on his neck stood like soldiers in line.
Ready for their execution.
Ready for their turn to return to light.
And as he stood there frozen,
not sure where to turn, not sure what to do.
A whisper he heard beside him,
"Cursed young soul, I have something for you."

"Your path has been crossed by dark forces,
yes darker than night and blacker than coal.
But I have always been waiting,
to show you the light, to deliver your soul."

"There's been times in your life when you've faltered.
I'm not here to judge, as every man falls.
But this is when evil tries alter,
all our desires, our one true call.
It sows the seeds of doubt and fear,
and mixes it with hate.
But now's the time to listen child,
for this is not your fate."

"Now's the time to listen child,
before now is too late."

Upon the fields of Ulster,
the Druid Cathbad long had passed.
He left his knowledge to a few,,
and all but one, had long since passed.
The secrets of the land and nature,
secrets from those sacred souls.
Sewn, into fields of wonder,
then to rest with him alone.

Born under skies of roaring thunder.
A child that always walked alone.
Found his way to silence,
found a way to be at one..
Those days amongst the flowers,
the trees and all that breathes with truth.
T'was there he found a way to live,
somewhere to seek out the roots.
The knowledge that was planted,
bringing fruit to a hungry heart,
was where he met old Cathbad,
this is where it was to start.

And so the years of learning
followed like a growing wave.
The Alchemy and Healing,
wisdom from an ancient age.
The reasons why it's worth to try,
the light that lights the day.
Those teachings, some they came with grace,
and some they came with pain.
And then he was the only one,
the last one to remain.
A Druid under stubborn skies,
crying in the rain.

We fell over each other,
a thousand stars fell from the sky.
On the road
to God knows,
we stumbled down the mountain side.

Although the glass was empty,
the bottle, it was always full.
We fought and danced with gypsies.
Sang songs with the Raging Bull.

Then we reached the shoreline.
Fires burning on the sand.
Mingled with the people,
took the air down by the strand.

The Fair, it starts tomorrow,
I wonder will she reappear.
She left the last time, with the morn,
hard to think it's been a year.

The Queen of hope,
the knotted rope.
That brought her to the grave.

The hangman's smile,
a thousand miles.
Since he was a slave.

The King of doom,
a lonely room.
Once the winning knave.

The way the shore,
will look for more.
Kidnapping the waves.

The forest hides so many things,
the leprechauns,
the fairies wings,
among the life that nature brings,
listen to the warbler sing.
And all along the forest trails,
raindrops pour
as nature sways,
each thing on its own sweet way,
passing with the grace of day.
Capture it inside your mind,
trap it well within your core.
The forest lives
and breaths with time,
always leaves you wanting more.
Lost upon the forest floor.

I've a feeling I've been at war before,
but I couldn't say which one.
I sometimes hear the rattle,
the chorus of the gun.

Its resonates inside my dreams,
I own a different face.
Still I have a feeling
my soul was at this place.

Where children on the street are crying,
some don't cry at all.
Bodies in the rubble,
far to young to fall.

Upon the reign, the greed of men,
the power that they crave.
The forgotten leaves of autumn,
fall softly on their graves.

A part of me remembers,
the horror and the pain.
Fighting for the right to live
crying in the rain.

In some trench, under some flag,
a long long time ago.
Those forgotten comrades,
dying in the snow.

It's those forgotten comrades now,
in my dreams they glow.
Those lost forgotten comrades,
dying in the snow.



#WAR  #DREAMS

Inhale.....,
Exhale.....,
The holy grail,
is deep within your mind.
Breath In....,
breath out....,
dont scream or shout,
seek and you shall find.

Sitting on the ancient hill,
where High Kings once were crowned.
The Stone of Destiny in light,
thats sometimes lost and found.
Then the Sun it rises, bringing sight,
to tired eyes.
That Star that burns
for all of us,
shining in the morning sky.
Guiding some to madness,
others to a shadowed truth.
On The Hill of Tara,
reconnecting with our roots.

The journey,
starting,
with your eyes.
That's  where I swim through.
Through your heart,
and through your mind.
That's where I find you.
Deep within those caverns,
that's where our true beauty lies.
Deep within the bond we have,
It's written in your hazel eyes.
And as we rest together.
Two souls,
underneath the stars.
I thank the Angels on our backs.
Thank the Lord we've got this far.
Here in synchronicity,
two souls, underneath the sky.
I thank the Devil on our back,
the one that made us wonder why.

She is
The Keeper of the Flame.
A beacon, on an ancient grave.
Upon the earth
where wild things roam.
She takes her rest
under the Sun.

And then at night,
under the moon.
She sits beside
the cold stone tombs.
Guided by awoken dreams,
reflected faces in the stream.

And as the wolves
begin to howl.
She's searching,
for the sacred owl.
The knowing eyes,
that guide the way.
The wind upon
eternal flames.

The winds that whistle
in her ear.
The voice, that always
draws her here.
Upon the earth,
where wild things lie.
She tends the flame
and wonders why.

The last thing
that his living eyes,
lay rest upon
before the end.
All magical and mystical.
Things his mind could not explain.
The faces and the memories,
all flowing,
freely, through the sky.
They joined his final memory,
of how he ever wondered why.

Two desperate souls,
upon the ledge.
She was from a coastal town.
He was from a different place,
she was from a different time.
The waves that crash beneath them,
200 feet...,
the rocks below
Their thoughts, could tip them over,
without the grip the other holds.
They're staring at the ocean.
Sometimes, there's no need for words.
They're staring at each other,
saved by all the dreams they own.