At the center of the city,
Resting in honored place,
Stands the open-air library;

Buried within these low walls,
Row upon row of hefty tombs,
Filled with knowledge and wisdom;

Visitors speak in hushed tones,
Children must be silent,
No dogs allowed;

No sound or sign of joy
Permitted in this hallowed place,
Lest the fallen leaves be disturbed;

The air is often heavy
With dark clouds roaming,
And rain falls frequently;

If only the library
Could be more like the park,
Full of life and laughter;

People talking freely,
Children playing,
Dogs chasing tennis *****;

More people would visit,
And those dusty old tombs
Needn't be quite so lonely.

I would **** you,


                                 If I but had the time.

Proud forest heart, in earthly shackles bound,
So high you climb to reach above your kin,
To know first morning breath upon your skin,
Beholding nature's beauty all around;
Safe harbour to the passing migrant birds,
Alighting on your limbs and so to rest,
And some will call you home and build a nest,
Your envy of their freedom has no words;
For they can journey to the forest edge,
To touch upon the beauty that you seek,
Her endless heights, her snowy covered peak,
For her alone your heart will truly pledge;
        Yet through your heartache, dreaming sets you free,
        To soar on high from where you'll always be.

Young man
Grab thy *****
Grab thy pick
And follow me

In this lush meadow
Green as green
Amongst the cherry
Blossom hills

Strike thy pick
Unto the ground
Take thy *****
And dig deep

Here then
Lies thy future
Look upon it
And weep

Now leave
Never to return
Until your
Appointed hour

And never forget
Life must end
And never forget
To live

Residing there on long forgotten shelves,
Down disused aisles in basements dark and dank;
Neath libraries where books can write themselves,
Where endless quills and ink pots scrawl and clank.
A dusty tome, it's cover worn with age,
Withered corners, dog-eared, blunt and battered;
Adventures told on every fading page,
Some folded down to mark the days that mattered.
A life, as told in some biography,
The tale of one who lived and loved and died,
Their name now long consigned to history,
One book that keeps their story safe inside.
        An epilogue: Lest anyone forgets -
        The subject of this tale had no regrets.

Tho' I should chance on every golden grain
Of sand ensconced on every ocean floor,
And know the touch of every drop of rain
That ever fell, or e'er will ever fall;

Tho' I should visit every garden, grown
With flowers wrought in every spectral shade,
And learn the name of all that e'er was sown
In every bed of every hidden glade;

Tho' I should gaze up high above the Earth
At every star that lights the evening sky,
And tell the tale of each and every birth
And when and how and why each one will die;

Tho' I should see all that was e'er to see -
There's naught, my love, that e'er compares to thee.

He was a brawned and ugly gun-slinger, and he came from the wild west;
He had the names of six dead Texan boys, tattoed on his chest;
His hat was 15 gallons tall, his long-coat midnight black;
He wore his holsters mighty high and he said his name was Jack.

He rode a palamino horse on the day he came to town;
Three deputies were in the street, and he shot those suckers down;
Dismounting by the sheriffs door, he hollered out a cry,
"Get yer no-good chicken *** outside, today yer gonna die."

The sheriff boldly stepped outside, a shotgun in his hand,
"You'd best be coming quiet son, or your life aint worth a ****."
Jack tipped his hat and curled his lip, he turned his head and spat,
"You shot my brother, sheriff, and yer gonna pay for that."

The sheriff paused to ponder, then he slowly shook his head,
"Your Jimmy robbed a stagecoach and he left the driver dead."
Jack grimaced at his brother's name, and his hands twitched by his side,
"You can call it how you like", he said, "But I'm gonna have yer hide."

The sheriff put the shotgun down, and they faced off in the street,
His hands were poised above his guns, he was sweating in the heat;
He waited till he saw Jack flinch, and his hands flew lightning fast,
His trusty colts were smoking as they fired their deadly blast.

For a moment they both stood stock still, then Jack fell to the ground,
His face was full of shocked surprise, but he never made a sound;
The sheriff felt a tinge of pain, and he saw his badge was bust;
As the blood came seeping from his chest, he fell into the dust.

The townsfolk still recall the day, when Jack rode into town,
And every year they say a prayer, on the day they both fell down;
They were buried up on old Boot Hill, their graves were side by side;
The sheriff renowned for killing Jack, with the man who took his hide.

Oh my, the deadline looms and here I sit
With parchment still unblemished, drying ink
Upon the freshly sharpened quill; my wit
Abandons me, the mind declines to think!
The hero comes from Greece? Or was it Rome?
He quests to seek the something something? ****!
Or maybe he’s attempting to get home?
NO! NO! He’s not a bleating little lamb!
Of course! A dusky maiden, she’ll be caught
In some forsaken dungeon / castle? Nice!
And after all his enemies are fought
The hero saves the day and we rejoice!
        Oh ****, my hero still requires a name;
        Da dum da dum ... I think I'll call him Dwayne!

Dear Sir, I wish to lodge a strong protest
Against the upkeep of our college grounds;
This afternoon, my body was at rest
Beneath a shady tree, admiring sounds
Of blue birds calling one another.  How
They sing their love of England's summer, joy
Effusing from their whistled tune; yet now
I fancy that their song is but a ploy
To captivate a poor soul such as I,
Who seeks to find solace from lectured tomes
And so reclines to watch the clouds float by.
Beneath the trees these blue birds call their homes,
        My head was bruised by fruit they dropped on me!
        I trust you understand the gravity?

Ah, memories, capriciously you choose
Such wondrous moments worthy to retain;
Important things, so oft' you're apt to lose,
Yet how you cling to those that brought us pain.
You offer but a glimpse of yesteryear,
And fill the gaps, with things which might have been,
So oft', we find it's never truly clear
If what you show was real or but a dream.
How can we trust that what you say is true,
When all we know is what you choose to share?
Do you record the tales of things we do,
Or conjure up our stories from thin air?
        Without you, all my past would cease to be --
        My life is naught but one long memory.

To arms! To arms! Arise thou stricken knave!
For merry mischief summons thee from rest;
Arise! Arise! The battle thou dost crave,
Hast struck thy heart like thunder in thy breast.
Put on the silken cloak embossed with gold,
Raise up that sword, equip the heavy shield;
Throw off thy weary battle-scars of old,
Onwards to war, and never shall ye yield!
Advance! Advance! Thy nemesis appears,
Wade thru the lesser men, brush them aside;
With battle drums a-ringing in your ears,
No friend or foe will tarry e'er thy stride;
        Fear not the daggered eyes, the poisoned glance --
        "Perchance my lady, would ye care to dance?"

Such joy a day can bring to hearts of men,
The trees bedecked, in finest autumn hue;
A throng of merriment upon the heath,
The glistened lilac, wrought in morning dew.

The drummer boys, a-beating on their drums,
Old peddlers pushing carts, piled high with wares;
Beggars, worn and haggard, as their clothes,
And women, in their finest, catching stares.

The roaring cheers as horse parades go by,
Delivering up the bounty of the feast;
The VIPs a-riding in fine style,
Their open carriage, drawn behind the beast.

As one by one, they climb above the crowd,
Their speeches cheered, with jeers and playful boos;
Then swiftly swinging, onwards with their tour,
The crowds go jostling, chasing better views.

The butcher greets the VIPs with glee,
And demonstrates his mastery of meat;
With sharpened knives, a-gleaming in the sun,
His chopping rhythym keeps a steady beat.

As shadows lengthen, slowly crowds disperse,
With pondrous looks, a day to e'er remember;
And every year, its carnival once more,
Lest we forget, the fifth day of November.

A chilling solemn breeze sweeps thru the town,
Down empty streets where children used to play;
The crumbled buildings, many falling down,
A monument to history's darkest day.
The rusted hulks of burned out motor cars,
Discarded bicycles against a wall,
The roads that carry disused tram-line scars,
The poignant remnants of the old church hall.
No more, the children laughing in the street;
No more, the parents in their Sunday best;
No more, the echoes of jack booted feet;
Forever shall ye martyrs lay in rest.
        The town will always stand as testament,
        To sons and daughters France will e'er lament.

To strive to know the heart of one so pure,
To contemplate the fate of one so young;
With heavy hearts, uncertain and unsure,
We honor thee and praise thee with our song;
To stand alone, amongst the enemy,
To take a stand, and stare them in the face;
With courage in your heart, to let them see
That you alone can walk within God's grace;
To burn and burn and thrice to burn again,
To turn the skin, and flesh, and bone to ash;
Discarding all remains unto the Seine,
The stains upon their souls will never wash;
        Old men of cloth, long deaf to voices sainted;
        Her name condemns your black-hearts ever tainted.

"Come, thou clear-voiced Muse, Erato, begin thy song, voicing to the tune of thy lovely lyre the strain of the children of Samos." (Stesikhoros, C7th-6th B.C.)*

Upon a dim and distant telling,
Fared a maid of noble dwelling;
Rhadine was so beautiful,
Her suitors fought to claim her hand.

Unbeknownst, her father sold her
To a vile old tyrant soldier;
Rhadine sobbed, but dutiful
She boarded ship to foreign land.

Leontichus, her secret lover,
Swore an oath that he'd recover
Rhadine from the tyrant's grip;
He took the task of a deck-hand.

Many moons would find him weeping,
Ever watchful, never sleeping,
Till the day his mighty ship
Reached distant shore of foreign land.

Leontichus planned and conspired;
Cunning schemes would see him hired,
In the palace of the tyrant,
Where he could be close at hand.

There he watched, and there he waited,
As the nobles congregated
For the wedding, where defiant
Rhadine stood on foreign land.

Songs were sung and vows were spoken,
Then the tyrant brought a token,
Glinting in the bright sunlight
He offered it to Rhadine's hand.

Leontichus was gripped in sadness,
Taken by a sudden madness,
Running forth to save her plight,
He held Rhadine on foreign land.

Anger swept the tyrant's features,
Ridiculed by worthless creatures!
Taking sword, its sharp edge keen
He ran them through with his own hand.

As they lay there, deathly dying,
Midst the nobles, wailing, crying,
Leontichus held his Rhadine
And there they passed on foreign land.

The tyrant ordered their remains
Should scatter over hills and plains,
He placed them on a chariot,
And sent it with no guiding hand.

Late that night when all were sleeping,
Still the tyrant's eyes were weeping,
Knowing he could tarry not,
He ordered search of foreign land.

Days had passed when news arrived,
The chariot had still survived;
A soldier brought it to his door,
And placed the reigns into his hand.

The two were buried side by side,
Their hands were clasped, their arms entwined,
And there they rest forever more,
Two lovers lost on foreign land.

Leontichus and his Rhadine,
The greatest love the world has seen,
True lovers laying hand in hand,
Forever lost on foreign land.

To sip vines brew and ponder thru a night
When night alone knows naught of loves sweet cheer;
To toast a love with feelings e'er contrite
And know tho’ love is gone that love is near;
For love is twine that binds two lovers twinned
Not as a fettered shackle on the calf
But holding two as one against the wind
Then two as one stand stronger than each half;
So tarry not when night has lost his crown --
When chorus breaks to herald first suns praise;
Tarry thee not unto a waiting gown
Of warm embrace thru many coming days;
        One night is all yet still one night is long --
        Night bear love swift to where love doth belong

A stylish beauty born of elegance
So full of life, so wondrous to behold
How sweet the perfumed fragrance of romance
Beguiling timid lovers to be bold
The velvet softness of your petal skin
As gentle as the fall of purest snow
Such vibrant colors, where should one begin?
The white, the peach, the red, an endless show
To name a thing is but to give a name
Yet names are naught but locks wrought with no keys
Constricting like a portrait picture frame
That fails to capture aught but what it sees
        Yet in the end I’ll name you I suppose
        The beauty of a perfect English rose

TENOR:
        My love!
        My first bassoon!
        The one - who taught me loves sweet tune!

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  GONE!

TENOR:­
        My love!
        My sweet La Lune!
        She came - and then was lost so soon!

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  GONE!

SOPRANO­:
        My love!
        My great Maestro!
        The one - who taught me all I know!

TENOR:
        Why?
        Why did she go?
        Why did she - L..E..A..V..E... - M..E?

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  GONE!

BARITON­E:
        My sweet La Lune! - She plays her tune
        Upon a shiny new bassoon!
        My sweet La Lune! - She plays for me
        Oh such ****** symphony!

{BRASS}
        OOM PAH PAH! - OOM PAH PAH!

TENOR:
        What's this?
        I spy La Lune?
        Blowing bassoon - a new c-o-n-d-u-c-t-o-r?
        His baton -
        She's sat upon!
        It seems she's found - a new i-n-s-t-r-u-c-t-o-r!

{DRUMS}
        GONE!  GONE!  -  GONE!  G­ONE!

SOPRANO:
        My love!
        My new found love!
        How I adore - your o-r-c-h-e-s-t-r-a-t-i-o-n!
        And with -
        Your dextrous hands -
        You fill me with - a-n-t-i-c-i-p-a-t-i-o-n!

BARITONE:
        My love!
        My new found love!
        You light me up - a shining c-a-n-d-l-e!
        And with -
        Your dextrous lips -
        My baton loves - to feel your H-A-N-D-E-L!

{BRASS}
        OOM PAH PAH! - OOM PAH PAH!

TENOR:
        The end!
        The end is nigh!
        And they must die! - There's no denying!
        But how -
        To pay them back?
        For they deceived - me with there l-y-i-n-g!

CHORUS:
        The end!
        The end is nigh!
       And they must die! - There's no denying!

TENOR*:
        Upon my word - I will make them pay!
        Upon my word - they will die THIS DAY!      

{TRIANGLE}
        TING!

{CURTAINS CLOSE - END OF ACT 1}

On a warm afternoon, in the middle of June
Two lovers were strolling along
Their arms were entwined, they had but one mind
Their hearts both sang the same song

Harold was tall, a handsome young sort
His hair as black as the night
Amy was fair with flowing blonde hair
Her face such a beautiful sight

Together they walked, and excitedly talked
Making plans for their future together
Living in their own home, having kids of their own
With a love that would outlast forever

They walked for a mile, and came to a stile
That neither had seen there before
It led over a fence, into forest so dense
An exciting new place to explore

They trekked through the brush, neither one in a rush
Until they chanced upon an old trail
The wind here was still, Amy felt a slight chill
The air tasted heavy and stale

They continued along, and then heard a strange song
At first they thought it was birds
But as they got nearer, the sound became clearer
And they realized that tune carried words

Upon a pine tree, as small as could be
A fairy was singing a ditty
She fluttered her wings, such translucent things
And she danced looking ever so pretty

In an instant she stopped, her face it looked shocked
And she flew down in front of their track
"What are you doing here?", her voice trembled with fear
"You must leave now and never come back!"

"Whoa there! Who are you? My name's Harold, how'd you do?"
Harold managed a nervous smile
"I'm the Good Fairy" she said, "and the path you now tread
Is closed and has been for a while"

Amy leant on a tree, "It looks open to me
And I really don't think you can stop us
So shoo out of our way, you're spoiling our day
We'd prefer no more of your ruckus!"

The Good Fairy smiled, "Now listen here child!
You'll do as you're jolly well told!"
Amy just snorted, and quickly retorted
"For a small thing you're really too bold!"

"Are you sure of your love? Does it fit like a glove?
Are you certain that he is the one?"
The Good Fairy prodded at Harold and nodded
"If you value your love then begone!"

"Our love is so pure, of that much I'm sure
That nothing could come in between.
So I'll thank you to keep a hold of your beak
You're beastly and ever so mean!"

"Harold, dear boy, you’re not just her toy!
A plaything that she can abuse
You have your own mind, with thoughts that are kind
And brains that you really should use!"

Harold just nodded, then felt his ribs prodded
As Amy gave him a cold stare
"Come along Harold dear, we'll not stay around here
We'll proceed down the trail over there"

The Good Fairy swallowed, and then she just followed
Aware of the danger that was nearing
The path became steeper, as it led them down deeper
Till finally it came to a clearing

In the midst of that wood, an ornate fountain stood
Its clear waters flowed like a stream
They were caught in a basin, carved by a skilled mason
The surface shimmered like a dream

"So this is your secret, and you wanted to keep it!"
Amy gloated with a grin on her face
"Well its ours too to share, and I really don't care
If you don't want us here in this place"

The Good Fairy sighed, "It’s no use, I tried
But you just wouldn't heed my warning
And now you are here, it’s too late I fear
You'll both rue this day in the morning"

Amy laughed boldly and eyed her so coldly
"Silly fairy there's nothing to fear
The water looks pure, of that much I'm sure
So why don't you dare to come near?"

"You don't know the name of this place where you came
You don't understand what's at stake"
The Good Fairy shivered, her wing tips they quivered
"You've made such a dreadful mistake

This fountain is magic, its consequence tragic
It's reflection shows only love's truth
If you think I deceive, and you still don't believe
Take a look and you'll find there your proof"

Amy walked up, to the fountain and took
A long look into that flowing stream
And what she perceived could be scarcely believed
It was Amy but dressed as a Queen

She wore a long gown and a beautiful crown
And was sat on a shiny gold throne
They were toasting her name and proclaiming her fame
But she saw that she wasn't alone

The most wonderful thing, a handsome young King
Who smiled with such love in his eyes
He looked at her kindly, whispered "Come and find me"
Then vanished to Amy's surprise

She was back in the clearing, and Harold was peering
In the waters with a lopsided smile
What he witnessed that day, he never did say
But he stared there for quite a long while

When the trance was complete, Harold stared at his feet
He wouldn't look Amy in the eye
"I need to go" he muttered, "Later, maybe?" he uttered
And was gone with no further goodbye

Amy thought of her King, with the large wedding ring
And the love in his eyes at her sight
She held him in her mind, as she set off to find
The one man whom she knew was just right

The Good Fairy sighed, "So another love died
In pursuit of a love even stronger
Why do folk leave behind, all the love that they find
To go on with the search ever longer?

Can love ever be measured, like something that’s treasured
Can you weigh it upon a fine scale?
Can one ever be sure, that new love will be pure
That it isn't just destined to fail?"

The Good Fairy glanced, at the waters perchance
And her little eyes filled up with tears
The vision she saw was one she'd seen before
And the image still haunted her fears

"The problem we embrace, when we look on that face
The reflection of our own true lover
Is we don't realize, though the fountain never lies
Our true love may perceive yet another"

The Good Fairy left, feeling wholly bereft
And returned to her guard feeling tense
"That’s the fourth time this week", she said wiping her cheek
"Perhaps I should put up a fence?"

Oh sweet Erato, whither wanders thee?
Once fertile leas lay arid near the shore,
The ripened fruit now withers on the tree
And shadows linger ever at the door.
Did ancient Colchis summon thee by name
To strum a lyre and sing for Argonauts?
Wouldst Rhodius be aught of any fame
If not bestowed resplendent with your thoughts?
Or yet - perchance you ride a chariot,
Thru roses red and myrtle evergreen,
To find the place Leontichus was set
Eternally beside his love Rhadine?
        Oh sweet Erato, whither would you choose --
        Be free for e'er, or else to be a muse?

"I'd like to rent a ****** please!", little Johnny cried,
"A good sized filly, plenty of zest, and a great big *** to ride!
I'll take her up the paddock, and I'll slap her big behind,
Then I'll ride her till she's raw, when another ****** I'll find!"

My genteel shepherd,
                                                      F­ondly I recall
The beauty of your Lignon, where we'd share
Neath monuments around your stately hall,
A fleeting moment free from any care.

Embracing midst that noble rustic arch
With marble stone emblazed with bas relief,
Where Poussin's likeness captivates the heart
To tell the tale of Arcadia's grief,

Those shepherds and their shepherdesses gaze
Upon the tomb, Utopia's demise;
Their faces full of woe for darker days,
As humbly now, your servant bids goodbye.

        Yours always, in memoriam and so,

        Adieu,

                Et in Arcadia ego.

To wit to woo, or not to wit to woo,
Would wooing suit a suitor shy on wit?
Or would a witty suitor suit poor Sue,
For Sue aint one to want a witless twit!
If Sue is wooed by witty repartee,
Then Sue and suitor could be well suited,
But he who woo's poor Sue with lethargy,
Is like to like not how he gets booted!
So if you want to woo, and to woo Sue,
Then deign to don a suit and do your bit,
To shoot for Sue, your wit should shoot straight thru',
Or wooing Sue aint worth a sack of spit;
        Poor Sue just wants a witty suitor, see?
        So if your wit is wanting, leave her be!

Oh wondrous light, enrapturing my eyes,
Reflecting from her sweet and gentle form;
Do you deceive and trick me with your lies,
To break my heart, and leave my soul forlorn?
No maiden now, or e'er has looked so fair,
Her warm soft skin, her eyes begot with jewels,
Her countenance refined beyond compare,
Oh wondrous light, you take us all for fools!
Should I believe the image you portray,
This beauty on the canvas of my mind?
Her portrait ever hung on proud display,
Where I alone can ever hope to find;
        If she could see her light the way I do,
        She'd know my love for her is always true

A blighted tome lies hidden -- He who seeks
Enlightenment, or yet may on a whim
Pursue to find the secret that it keeps,
Be warned that there upon it’s vellum skin,
In silvered lines and swirls, the epitaph
And reckoned days of mortals; those once heard,
Now seen, or yet to feel; each trodden path
Foreshadowed, from the womb unto interred --
Would knowing of your winter cull the woe
Of knowing that your summer is too short?
Would spring be wasted waiting on the snow,
And autumn shade diminish in your thought?
        Before you seek, be sure you wish to find,
        For secrets learned may yet torment your mind.

If all the stars were made of paper, bright
And shining with a clean unwritten glow;
An endless ream of shimmering white delight,
Awaiting for a writers hand to flow.
If space was but an inky void, so dark
And gleaming with a glossy coated hue;
An endless pool of glimmering black, so stark
And unused, waiting for its first debut.
If I should take a quill unto the ink,
And write my words on each and every star,
To cover each with all the ways I think,
To tell the world how beautiful you are --
        When every star was blackened with my verse,
        I'd seek to find another universe

Seven minutes to midnight
The New Year’s Eve party in full swing
How stunning you look in that red dress
Our friendship of many years is about to fail
Funny how one moment can change everything
My heart pounding, I feel like a mess
Our courtship playing out on a global scale

Six minutes to midnight
My mind is racing, and I begin to perspire
You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen
Why you chose to dance with me, I'll never know
Thoughts of what may come sets my heart on fire
I always secretly hoped you may be keen
And now the world waits for us to put on a show

Five minutes to midnight
Uncertainty begins to cloud my every thought
Perhaps I misread all of the signs
What if the whole thing is only in my head
I remember the times when we bickered and fought
Sometimes I read too much between the lines
All confidence gone, my feet turn to lead

Four minutes to midnight
I watch, mesmerized by your swaying hips
My soul is filled with joy by your laughing eyes
How could I ever doubt the way you feel
We move together and now I become transfixed
Reflections in a mirror, our bodies synchronize
My deepest hopes and dreams finally becoming real

Three minutes to midnight
The pace and tone of the music intensifies
We dance as one, never missing a single beat
Our arms moving together in perfect time
My stomach churns, full of butterflies
I never knew anyone could be so sweet
To think, in a few moments you could be mine

Two minutes to midnight
My ears fill with the sound of my thudding heart
As though a million men were marching nearby
Surely you can hear its deafening roar
We've both waited a long time to play our part
Now the time approaches when our love can fly
I wonder why we never thought to do this before

One minute to midnight
Standing precariously at the edge of the abyss
One wrong step and we both might tumble
But we've come too far now to walk away
As the seconds count down, I begin to reminisce
Recalling the friendship that's about to crumble
The whole world will always remember today

Midnight*
In a sea of red, balloons falling from the sky
Our arms finally embrace, as midnight chimes
Your intoxicating perfume fills me with bliss
All men should feel this way before they die
As the band begins to play Auld Lang Syne
I whisper a silent prayer, and we kiss ...

He waited patiently -- The moonless night
Seemed restless, winds blew lightly 'cross the clear
Unburdened skies, the stars all glimm'ring bright
And o'er the glassy seas he sensed her fear
She moved with grace and noble elegance
A lady dressed resplendent in attire
Befitting for her maiden dalliance
Onwards she came and driven by desire
He watched and waited, hidden from her view
As she came near, he brushed against her face
And in that moment suddenly she knew
Her fate was sealed within his cold embrace
        She shivered as she felt his icy kiss
        And swooning she was lost to the abyss