Close your eyes and go to sleep,
Earth benefits from those who dream,
So let it be.

There's more than you can keep
Collected in at the seams;
Close your eyes and go to sleep.

Only so much can seep
Through, and waste serene;
So let it be,

Known that there's more hidden deep
Than the eye can see and believe, so
Close your eyes and go to sleep.

You're more than you seem,
Never run out of steam. You have to
Close your eyes and go to sleep.
Let it be.

Old stars shine on long after life is gone,
Bright lights echoed through voids they leave behind;
Old remnants fade yet still their light lives on.

Born of old dust, born of a mothers son,
Born fated to repeat a mortal grind,
Old stars shine on long after life is gone,

One sparking flame igniting dreams anon,
Defying darkness drawn to drowned the mind;
Old remnants fade yet still their light lives on.

Bright stars that brightly burn oft' seem alone
Where lesser lights eclipsed are hard to find;
Old stars shine on long after life is gone.

Old stars must end when all their days are done,
But light once shone goes on to raze the blind;
Old remnants fade yet still their light lives on.

From dust to dust, from ash to ash, they shone
With fiery hearts fanned by a gift divined:
Old stars shine on long after life is gone,
Old remnants fade yet still their light lives on.

Did you really have to go?
I'm left behind and miss you so
It's been a long, long time

You said you had to go to foreign climes
But you're always on my mind
Did you really have to go?

You left me sad
And I feel bad
It's been a long, long time

Do you ever think of me
When you are far beyond the sea
Did you really have to go?

I dream of you both day and night
Although you're very far away
It's been a long, long time

Please come back. I need you so
A sun to shine and river's flow
It's been a long, long time


Keith Wilson
Birthwaite November 2015

Reglossing, rewashing, removing, returning,
she kept using the same cloth to wipe up this mess.
All of the same mistakes constantly repeating,
spools of half-hearted "I'm sorry's" unwinding,
foolproof promise to cover for her missed absence.

I persist reloading, rewinding, replaying
watching the film of our lives together, pausing
at moments where temporarily, I confess,
unpredictable happiness ceased repeating.
This trainwreck of a show carries on, blistering
slides that I want to swipe clean, but her name suppress
stained slates developing, deflecting, destroying.

I throw away the footage, romanticizing  
sheer ideas of finally making progress
forgetting her. But relapse results repeating
bad habits. There is not a remedy. I cling
to the seasons of the past, wanting to digress
reminding, rewinding, removing, regretting.
'Til the cloth clears again, chaos keeps repeating.

Listen to the slow steady gong of the death knell
From down the street at the old clock tower
The tell tale tolling of the old tower bell.

In the square, no one dares approach that well,
Where sick beat the quick, and sweet turns sour,
Listen to the slow steady gong of the death knell.

Sinking into the hearts a fear no one can quell,
Making the strong weak, causing brave men to cower,
The tell tale tolling of the old tower bell.

The streets are abandoned as dark spirits swell,
Beseting the village, all light they've devoured,
Listen to the slow steady gong of the death knell.

The people were running, scared as they fell
Yet, amidst all the chaos, marking the hour
Was the tell tale tolling of the old tower bell.

Dark and deserted, there the demons will dwell
Betwixt the spirits and shadows with chaotic power.
Listen to the slow steady gong of the death knell,
The tell tale tolling of the old tower bell.

10.21.15 11:16pm

Reglossing, rewashing, removing, returning,
she kept using the same cloth to wipe up the mess.
All of the same mistakes constantly repeating,
spools of half-hearted "I'm sorry's" unwinding,
foolproof promise to cover for her missed absence.

I keep on reloading, rewinding, replaying
watching the film of our lives together, pausing
at moments where temporarily, I confess,
unpredictable happiness ceased repeating.
This trainwreck of a show carries on, blistering
slides that I want to swipe clean, but her name suppress
stained slates developing, deflecting, destroying.

I throw away the footage, romanticizing  
sheer ideas of finally making progress
forgetting her. But relapses result repeating
bad habits. There is not a remedy. I cling
to the seasons of the past, wanting to digress
reminding, rewinding, removing, regretting,
until the cloth is clean, her faults keep repeating.

Underneath the rushing world
our situation at a glance
has yet to quietly unfurl.
I am only a lonely girl
who's never had a slow-song dance
above the big rushing world.
And you, you look like you could twirl
me, and trap my heart in a trance,
which has yet to slowly unfurl.

On these tracks, there is a pearl
among the others in a stance,
underneath the rushing world.
Suddenly the train stops and hurls
you toward me. This is my chance.
I should take it. But it unfurls,

I need to say before this whirl
    I have not met you. In advance
underneath the rushing world
our love will not ever unfurl.

Year after year we see
The same scene,
Tears from trees

Brown leaves on the ground
From the trees
All around

Some are sad some are pleased
With the fall of
Brown tears from trees

One day of wind, all come down,
And then the leaves are
All around

What we see is poetry
In the country and the town
Brown teary trees

We are touched somehow
Memories are always found
When brown tears from trees
Are all around


Sean Hunt
Windermere November 4th 2015