The fear of War
walks upon the air

strides across
a countryside

like a gigantic
demonic **** in Boots

a Grimm tale
let loose

upon a world
that can only offer

in its defence
the beauty of this spiderweb

thrown across
the space between

hedgerow and fence

this the last sunset
that will ever know "Peace...

. . .in our time."

I fear Mr. Chamberlain
has got it - wrong.

Herr ****** has caught the bus.

A hawk hovers
in its beauty.

I sit making
its jesses and leashes .

Already I can see
I stand in the ruins of my life

an ordinary man
turning into history.

War invisible
yet totally tangible

its hand touching
my landscape.

An ancient chalk man
holding the gates open

the what will
be...will...be.

A sunset caught
in a spiderweb.

The last time
I ever was

me.