My eyes  sore from the teaming rain that Bucketed down ,
drenching my cloaths and skin , yet became transfixed
On a crow busy plucking parasites from a stags backside ,
It was early ,
the Sun had just risen  , and a frost still clung to the shrubs chilling by bones as I stood
there alone for what seemed like an eternity .

For a week we lived like Kings on bread and cheese and beautiful things my wife , daughter and I
With fabric to mend , wash and sow ,
how the work came in .
A good fire at night that kept us warm ,
a few shillings for lodging ,
a roof over our heads ,
Curled up in our beds ,
Warm and fed .
Then skin and bone ,
as winter called ,
and hale and gale ,
and famine .

No bread ,
to feed our famished souls ,
On chicken feed ,
my daughter fed ,
From the baker I begged,
Swollen stumucks ,  
Frozen nights , cast out .for a penny of gold
A bed in a slum ,
a new days begun ,
To ***** the streets ,
from dawn to dusk ,
Looked Down by the well to do ,
afraid to buckle my shoe .
I walked for days  .
Then down to the Docks where hundreds flocked ,
Crammed in like cattle .
If death has no power over love , then why do I stand here , alone , in the freezing cold.
With no room to breath , or turn ,
no air to fill my lungs ,
a mass of bodies ,
Thousands of men ,
a surge of bodies behind me ,
I slipped and fell ,
Now here I stand with deer and crow before me

When word and deed is done , then cometh the truth .
Bread of life for common man the Son of God did say ,
Now tomorrow morn , before the great White throne ,
I must plead my case .
For where my sinful soul once trod a good Shepherd kept his flock ,
To pay before a holy God .
A red deer to be culled for Christmas .

My Crow took flight once more. and as
The sun rises and sets ,
What is new under the sun ,
but a Holy God before me .