Hummm,
Hummm,
from your,re sleep if you awake to the sound of rota blades above quiet Ashfords streets .
Oh but you always do ,
and the covers on you’re bed can’t hide .
One thirty every night ,
dead on time ,
yes every night ,
Hummmm,
Hummmm,
then our serenity returns ,
not for five minutes lay ,
Hummm,
Hummm,
This time with rota blades and fog horns ,
“ keep you’re hands held at bay “
You are surrounded walk into the light “
Every night we walk ,
With our children ,
all that lay in the house of abandon
to the light we walk.
On broad shoulders carried our selfish acts ,
Loneliness ,
hatred ,
Pity ,
and plague .

Like Gentlemen and ladies awaiting high teas ,
On luxury Titanic liners with sunset kisses before bed ,
Calm  chilling  rocks await .


funerals pyre ,
Hell opens it’s. gates  where fire and pride burn ,
and music and dance and violins sing .





And those blues and twos that wake you at night ,
from inconsistent blues and light ,
the blackbirds song must wake its dawn chorus break ,
Or back to slumber you must keep ,
Only watch for the Robin it’s perch on concrete cross in darkest night  , sleep tight .