does cycle start with autumn
the shedding of the trees
the dark 'n naked columns
bereft of nature's leaves?

does she start the year
depressing and of drear
robbing air of cheer
staining cheek with tear?

or does it start with winter
with biting freezing cold
like a naked sprinter
plunged in icy fold

is he the start of cycle
as men and boys go idol
the sleep of all things vital
in wait for life's revival?

or does it start in spring
with pink and purple blossom
the yellow daffodil
from mama earth's *****

does spring commence the year
with laughter and loud cheer
its promise ringing clear
of goodness very near?

or does the year with summer start
with boiling sun and ripening fruit
the filling of the apple-cart
the carrot and the radish-root?

tell me now, is it summer
that starts the sprint as a runner
that with loud shot from the gunner
blurs legs as wings of hummer?

indeed, does day with night begin
with all things dark and quiet,
to clear the air, to usher in
a new day's life and riot?

or does the night end the day
as matters draw to close
the sleep of night to melt away
all stress through sweet repose?

i ask in all sincerity
don't mean to be captious
i seek wisdom and clarity
where is the point of axis?

can you point to time
in day or in year a date
that marks the start or prime?
or is beginning to rejuvenate?

is in truth the year and day
a cycle everlasting
there be no start, or end decay?
this is what i'm asking

methinks the year with spring doth start
the genesis of all things
and like the spring, doth daylight mark
life's birth on ancient wings

a million cries in one tear
dropped into a yawning crevice
take your time to lend an ear
or else be part of that abyss

a million cries in one tear
that formed the oceans long ago
as men blind in life career
its waters rush to and fro

in its movement hides a sigh
a yen for haven long ago
when all was one, the heavens high
with dust and creatures down below

that ocean's tides, the ebb and flow,
is yearning for that status quo
can still be heard in your heart
so still a moment, be a part

of that oneness, spirit that's singing
proclaiming plainly, loud and clear
of those million cries still pinning
to join together in that One big tear.

the competition starts as you're born
its championship's not foresworn,
the gun is fired on very first morn
the finish-line reached as others mourn

on the way you'll find much to nettle
there to prove your grit 'n mettle
if moral compass's in fine fettle
you'll emerge stronger, as quenched metal

if you fall on the way, help is at hand,
that too is innate, divinely planned,
it's human nature, you'll understand,
just keep on, maintain your stand

as best can be, that's all that's required,
try not to look if you're being admired,
do as your soul is heavenly inspired,
until you're tired, all strength retired

then soul ascends with all it's acquired,
the bruises of life, as medals, attired,
and as the spirit is gently expired,
G-d whispers, 'yes, it's this I desired'.

down into the valley of death
went two hundred and fifty five
into the mouth and jaws of death
into the jaws of hell.

Was there a man dismayed?
Not that the soldiers knew,
(Someone had blundered.
   Theirs not to make reply,
   Theirs not to reason why,
   Theirs but to do and die.)

For they'd come in their ****** brigade
marauders in planned coup,
burnt the children with parents alive,
wrapped with wire of hate,
***** the girls as thousands died,
bullets spelled checkmate.
  Theirs not to reason why,
   Theirs to suffer and die.

sliced off fingers, gouged out eye,
sliced off *****, left to die,
Theirs not to make reply,
  Theirs but to bleed and die.

They left no vestige of life
Where they plundered with murderous knife
Flamed the houses with kids inside
Laughed at the screams as they burnt and died

(Someone had blundered.
   Theirs not to make reply,
   Theirs not to reason why,
   Theirs but to do and die.)

down into the valley of death
Went two hundred and fifty five
into the smoke of bomb and canon
into the smoke of hell

one day a bee came to a flower
tickled stamens in pollen-shower
unbeknown, within pistill,
began a fruit of tree distill

And after many years gone-by,
that fruit's seed had formed new tree
with leaves and flowers and branches high
and plentifold nectar for busy bee.

One day a man performs a deed
a deed has fruit, good goodness breeds,
and from that little point of light
will blossom stars to transform night

one little act may bear a sun
that may henceforth be the one
to turn humanity to change course
to fill the world with new force

smile to a stranger,
be kind at home,
you may be a changer
that change will roam

remember it's not just about you
it's how after many years are through
your act will have coloured in ways untold
the lives of many, a million-fold.

'keep it real', he'd said
so i plunged the knife in deep.
not surprising, I ended up dead,
while others around did weep

so ended my carceral life
as shard of former self,
ground by constant strife
to fleck of dust on shelf

they wept, they cried,
they wrung their hands,
('such a pity he died,
we don't understand')

they shook their heads,
they wiped their eyes,
they wound red threads,
they looked sky-wise,

as for me,
hey! I'm free...

he leant down and tousled the hair
of young son, unaware
of father towering high above
showering him with love, with love

preoccupied, boy didn't react
to paternal act of love
so father's hand made fresh contact,
and gave said son a loving shove

till finally, he lifted his eyes,
and looking up he saw the skies
there he recognised the wondrous wise
sparkling tenderness of father's eyes

there he found his father's smile
sweeter than angelic beguile
father saying, 'its been a while,
let's sit together and reconcile'.

a drop of ink on parchment
lines spreading black on white
so the soul in flesh apartment
spreads its rays in black of night

We wandered up the mountain-side
me and a mate of mine,
though hard-going, we kept our stride,
managing just fine

but lo, the weather, it weren't our friend,
surrounded the hills with mist,
so to our steps we had to tend,
in case a step we missed

Surreal was our surrounding,
wrapped by whitest blanket,
sight of ours confounding,
yet bow we did 'n thank it

for there is beauty in the unusual,
albeit not what we wanted,
for it made for the delusional,
as if the fells were haunted

well, on this hike that I tell of,
on place of hardest rock,
in order that i not fall off,
i slid down on me buttock.

and as extra care was needed there,
i dropped my rucksack down
on plateau beneath rock-stair
that i shouldn't break me crown

and what do you think happened next,
just wait until i tell you,
for it made my mate be mighty vexed
and caused a ballyhoo

said rucksack with his camera 'n drone
of almost two thousand quid
it started rolling off the stone
and down the scree it slid

over 'n over it somersaulted
like an egg omelette,
and i tell ye, as it vaulted,
my son, i did so fret

to my luck, there was little harm done
to his precious dear contents,
to his drone was damage none,
but his camera had glass indents

it'll cost him three hundred ton
to fix that iPod good
but what else should I have done?
I did the best I could

what think you, was this aleatory?
should I pay up all the same?
what say you of my story,
am I the one to blame?

ethereal spirit,
grey transparency,
saintly glow,
stood by me

its salient crescent
i wouldn't hear,
i turned my head
from silent steer,

yet always I pray,
spirit ethereal
hear me today,
support my fall

take my hand
lead me out
help me stand
'n be devout

so in dark hour
devil's lour
importunate
devilish bait

when i'm caught
in his lair
every thought
in his snare

don't stand
in entreat
pull me out
from the peat

"** ** **", said the gruff he-goat,
nodding his beard and shaking his coat,
as he playfully kicked at his little kids,
his admiring doe batting her lids

"look at me", cried the peacock in glee,
as he fanned his feathers for all to see,
gave a little run to the hen opposite
with a shake of his tail, his train composite

"I am the greatest", boasted the ape,
pounding his chest 'neath woodland cape,
informing the missus who was the boss,
who's the alpha, who not to cross.

is it woman alone of all creation
who rules her roost with subjugation
that all men quiver at the turn of her nose
at her meandering moods, her highs, her lows?

more than man, she panders to fashion,
to drive her mate to love and to passion,
why are the rules here in reverse
different from the rest of the universe?

the brown female of blackbird genus
is more than happy with mate's dominus,
the moorhen brown of drab feather 'n plume
is quite content to sit in the gloom

why then does the human lady of the house
turn bumbershoot inside out
in all ways proclaim charge of her spouse
with guile or smile or rant or pout?

twisted, gnarled, bent he stood,
ebony brown, of burled wood,
humble creature of tortured form,
hillside weathered through life of storm

battered by the highland gales
that swept the sweet and sunny dales,
contorted by the skies' assails
that hit and pounded as wind to sails

crushed, not broken, zoetic substance
gave new meaning to reluctance
as it withstood those blasts of dread
that left its brothers broken 'n dead

i lent against its ancient bark
to hear its secret of immortality
how to survive when all is dark
when you be victim of brutality

i heard its voice in rustled leaf,
in soft breeze and zephyr,
perchance the whisper of forest nymph
or murmur of the satyr

its voice was as a swaying sheaf,
its song was joy and not of grief,
its message true, profound and brief,
shibboleth that is nature's motif

it whispered of that low, sweet root,
from which all heavenly virtues shoot,
"The bending low before the brute
enabled me give forth my fruit".

"Who are you?
I know you not,"
Said little Daisy
To Forget-me-not.

"He has no tongue,
Speak not to him,"
Yawned young Lupin,
***** and prim.

"And who be you
To interfere?"
From overhang basket
Squeaked Lamb's Ear.

"Quiet now,
I'm trying to sleep,"
Said holier-than-thou
Peony Bo Peep.

And all was quiet
In yon flower-bed,
Save sweet little robin
Singing overhead.

On greenest bank where daffodils sway,
where bluebells awe the senses,
where field-thrush with blackbirds play
beneath the hawthorn fences

On dewy grass of early May,
Of verdant meadow breezes,
Beneath the oak, the wooers lay,
Where nature's love appeases.

I heard the murmur of a stream,
cool brook of crystal waters,
that shimmered as an alpine gleam
a sun with million daughters

It said it promised to create
world new, rejuvenate,
With warmth and light embrace the soul
babe start on fresh new goal.

And though from far there came the roar
Of greed, of horror, of want for more,
of blood, of battle, of broken heart,
of lies, corruption, of untold hurt,

I lay back in that light's embrace
In dawn of newest world,
And let myself believe in Grace,
Of blessing to unfurl.

head buried deep
she sits and weeps

for soul bereft
for all have left

no twitter of bird,
no song is heard,

her streets devoid
of life destroyed

no children's laughter
on morn thereafter

the enemy's plunder
with fire and thunder

extinguished all
from big to small

no lover's call
no baby's crawl

no longer teens
stroll her greens

groom and bride
starved and died

her sages skilled
slain 'n killed

the pure and chaste
lie in waste

young and old
lie still and cold

her elders' gate
lies desolate

for thousand years
she weeped her tears

yearned that Time
return her prime

her constant yearn
her child's return

until one day
one light ray

a hint of dawn
as shyest fawn

began to shimmer
the smallest glimmer

it waxed and grew
as if anew

a people reborn
though tired 'n torn

from many-a-moon
scattered and strewn

from past tragic
as if by magic

from east and west
returned to nest

as sun arose
from deep repose

and as a lion
with muscle of iron

awoke from slumber
as beyond number

voices of joy
of girl and boy

played in her street
with hearts abeat

farms with lanes
fields and plains

full again
of wine 'n grain

as it would seem
a nation's dream

had come alive
to grow and thrive

yet true spirit
virtue 'n merit

life-force and soul
her aim and goal

her vision divine
her G-d's recline

the blood of her veins
in saints' remains

appeared still locked
as scorners mocked

as though the sun
were playing a pun

as though its light
though white and bright

was as the dusk
a mere husk

a shell to fruit
that lay still mute

that yet to grow
from grey shadow

had yet to rise
from dark disguise

thus she lies
in humble guise

her sore eyes
scan the skies

now more awake
as chains off-shake

she still awaits
her lover's gait

she says, I know
it's not long to go

I sense he's near
he'll soon appear

my love, my dear,
will soon be here

Mind. Whisper your secrets,
Speak unto me,
Pierce this bleakness,
This mystery.

When all is still,
When heart opens
To drink its fill
Of heavenly notions

You are there,
You beckon.
You are prayer,
But as cretonne

that ***** over portal
Thou art impenetrable,
so long as I'm mortal
the distance inestimable

but I cry hail to Your Presence,
with salt tears do penance,
and in dissolving of my essence
make entrance

Step aside corporeal wonder,
silence yer noise, your awesome thunder,
for when body doth so slumber,
thickest veils are rent asunder

Streams of oneness, eye to Eye,
Give wing to soul, allow to fly,
Upon the thermals of spirit's sky,
To find its seat, to rest on high

Language here has other form,
no letters or numbers forced to conform,
the beat of a love, hot and warm,
drops like dew amid a swarm

of tongues that yearn for sweet elixir
of brightest light that hideth here,
that healeth all, that makes a seer
of blindest man, gives vision clear

that makes the weak hale and hearty
with joy of song, of spiritual party,
allows the meek become a part o' Ye,
Where close is far, and all One be.

Would that my eyes were a fountain of tears
to mourn those cut off in the prime of their years
the children, young boys, teenagers and men
that will never see the earth or the sky again
crushed underfoot in dearth unrelenting
in crowd unawares, in world unrepenting,
mothers are wailing and fathers are rending,
unable to fathom their child's early ending,
infants are crying and siblings lamenting,
'father', 'brother', their cries tormenting,
who can give voice to the emotions venting,
o'er jewels and gems, sweet men of learning,
the innocent souls never returning,
to parents, to spouses, to houses of learning,
world, take heed, abjure your errors,
say enough to the pain, the fright 'n the terrors,
let the cries go out to heal humanity,
from its stupidity, its ridiculous insanity,
my mind is weary from thinking on this,
thus pen i lay down, from writing desist.

-                               your goal                 your hereafter                       
                depends on intent                    'neath heaven's rafter
        of your soul                                           is made by your actions
    the ascent                                                         and sweet reactions
                                      your love and smiles     
                                    to life's kisses and trials

waxen ivy, leaves verdurous
wind around the succulent shoot
cleaving as malignant virus
sinking deep parasitic root

as star heliacal, it makes its debut
with innocence and propriety,
growing flexuous in situ
of sun maiden of society

but as incessant circumpolar
star of eternal reign
it is stronger than star solar
sun orb of yon kingly train

round soft bark o' younger sapling
twists 'n weaves the strangling twine,
hand-to-hand contestants grappling
with hate and love, the two combine

sapping strength, convolvulus curls
its lips, agape in poison'd glee
as from its midst, river pearls,
satin bells in filigree

the sweetest blooms of ivory,
tender as a fairy's wings,
with splash of pink-toned livery
as courtiers of ancient kings

sweet reminder of beauteous nature,
hand that guides all things that are,
from thickest trunk to slend filature,
from snow crystal to morning star

i bend my ear to the cackle
of conceited, binding ****,
as whining howl of the jackal
standing over carrion feed

within i see the empty crackle,
hollowness and selfish need
to capture others in its shackle
to feel worthy in life's stampede

as those who love to feed off others
are starved of own self-worth,
and thus they need life another's
to live on G-d's good earth

eyes ajar, like chocolate box
desperately trying to close
outside noise of yelping fox
and wife blowing her nose
leave my mind in flummox
unable to sleep or doze
expropriated as man in docks
of rightful slumber pose
so now in state as tinderbox
i gingerly throw on my clothes
close my hose, put on my socks,
'n venture on tiptoes,
half-past two scream the clocks
as children comatose
dream of bears and goldilocks
red cape and purple bows.

no longer does my mind rush on,
harried by incessant chatter,
no longer does my pen bear fruit
with workings of grey-cell matter

the highs, the lows, have softened 'n mellowed,
as fields of grain, of browns and yellows,
time goes faster and weeks race by
as two days between two Saturdays lie

the wine, maturing, regrets lost time,
the lost opportunities of me in my prime,
i long for those days when i sailed the skies,
when the sun and moon shone in my eyes

finally, finally, i'm coming to terms,
with my mortality, the diet of worms,
a finality that priceless make
the minutes 'n seconds i'm still awake

i heard it whispered by the wind
weeping o'er seas and land
i heard it sighed by the child
building castles in the sand

i heard it spluttered as he killed
as they fell as one unmanned
amongst the corpses as they piled
death at home in devil's land

i heard it muttered midst the trees
shivering naked in the breeze
i heard it buzzed between the bees
among the blackbirds from overseas

they'd seen him with his scythe in hand
they'd seen him threshing to and fro
they'd seen him travelling 'cross the land
with swing and strike and swipe and blow

how the mighty fell before him
weak and meek 'uns too
how their life was torn from limb
as they struggled to pull through

as they struggled 'gainst the *******
jaws of gaping hell
as they wrestled 'gainst his plucking
cord of bell and knell

as they fell into the clutches
of the scion of diablo
defenceless they 'gainst his touches
'gainst his charge on Death Row

they whispered secrets in my ear
chilling message ringing clear
better the rampage of G-d's courier
than predator of war-nuclear

better to fall into the hand of the L-rd
then the hand of man*
who kills 'n plunders with raving sword
without G-d's merciful plan

but my blindness saw as futile
the death of those five million
their suffering meaningless 'n brutal,
the adults, babes and children

but who am i to stand and judge
from my vantage here on earth
mine is but to drudge 'n trudge
till I'm too pulled to berth

there, beyond the death corporeal,
there beyond the silent sleep
beyond the clutch of snake primordial
the swing of soundless reap

i'll join the wisdom, joy supernal
beyond all peeve and pique
within the light of One Eternal,
Whose Name I dare not speak

it took me years to form this being
instilled in him wisdom, sense for seeing,
a heart to feel others' emotions,
deeper than the deepest oceans,
to deal kindly, invoke my name,
see my love and do the same.

planted him in world so beautiful,
with mountains high, volcanoes' crucible,
lakes and rivers, birds and creatures,
a world of such divinic features

my only son, i begged of him,
kissing on brow i said to him
this world entrusted to your care
fire, water, earth and air,
i trust that you'll walk in my way
creating beauty from disarray

i still hope and long, son of his father,
will grow up, mature, cease to slaughter,
nature to nurture, loving to be,
he, my prince, my family.

in the bulrush, by the river,
where brown seed pod 'n green spike quiver,
by the bank of golden long grass,
as guilt tresses in framed hand-glass,
flowing locks of glowing young lass,
dancing in the water'd mirror
where the rippled circles shiver
where the sun and moonlight shimmer
twixt the dross and floating debris
there i spied the rainbow'd mandarin
red 'n navy, red 'n aquamarine,
orange, auburn, blue 'n teal-green,
as the palette o' Claude Monet,
swirl'd Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso,
unaware of colours gay,
swimming slow in feet o' yellow,
unaware of Artist's play,
unassuming, with bowed head
burnished bronze 'n beak of red,
and by his side his mate 'n bride,
in subtle shades of patchwork pied,
together they the water glide,
the king and queen of nature's pride.

'Cross sombre fields, as shadows softly creep,
And fingers' twilight hush the world,
An addlepated wanderer, his mind asleep,
Ambles o'er a gaia upcurl'd.

In winding paths, 'mongst ancient oaks,
Midst fragrant pines and needles,
A maze of tangled thoughts of jokes,
Of tricks and jibes and wheedles,

Finds solace in solitude,
A quiet of golden hues,
And soft aside a slumbering brood
'Neath Diana's glows diffuse

Sighs beneath the weight of life
unpacks his heart's despair,
and closes eyes to whirl of strife,
To breathe the peaceful air.

what was that you said
a minute dear, me hearin' aid ...
your father? he's long dead
****'d in the last air-raid

aye! the war, the blitz
scared us out of our wits
what's that you say?
do i remember D-day?

' Course I do, remember it good,
like the rations, the stamps for food,
come again, my sweet, me hearing's bad,
aye, they got him alright, your granddad

orange-carts for seats we had in them days,
yer uncle, a milkman, would bring home his wage,
two shillin' a week, was considered good,
well, it'd keep us in bread and yer fire-wood

were we happy, you ask?
don't make me laugh,
with a pint and a half
beer in the cask

there was nought to keep our spirits down,
think o' the joy when I found a half-crown,
spent on baccy my pipe for the puffin',
them were the days, we didn't lack nuffin'.

father of child
bent over 'n smiled
bound with love
at his li'l dove

human umbrella
shelters the child
poor little fella
will ne'er be 'conciled

death wrought the air
tore it with scare
ended a life
too soon afterlife

blood on side-walk
on wall pasted
once laughed and talk'd
now spilt 'n wasted

new scar to be healed
new anger revealed
a killer's fate sealed
by dead human shield

Shadow and aura
They're always there
whether in Torah
whether in prayer

occasionally the light
shines strong and bright
but oft times despair
spreads its black air

most times they're both
fighting for troth
the sacred oath
stifled by growth

of shameful shadow
that blots out the sun
that blots out the marrow
of what's to be done

laziness thy name is known
thief of time, turns fire to stone,
you think you own me but this I own
that my true love is G-d alone.

his snow white beard filled the room
with angel-like consistency,
a sage of everlasting bloom
of ceaseless work 'n industry

indefatigable humour and wit,
a dryness that refreshed 'n bit,
always himself, running from honour,
could never be he'd be a goner

yet now i see a blanket black
set o'er coffin with hearse
can it be, he'll never come back,
within this life of years

but though his mortal frame is gone,
i see and feel his presence,
he's closer now that he's moved on,
a part of Omnipresence.

there were maggots in the wood
that swarmed and crawled as maggots should
bark beetle and grey wood-louse
that'd made in beam their home and house

around that wood so rotten fair
was gilt and gold of glint and glare
that onlooker could only stare
and to his friends so declare:

'beauteous is yonder beam
of gold and auburn sunshine gleam'
for little did he know or dream
of rottenness that vermin teem'd

but hidden 'hind that wood o' canker
was wood so solid as steel of anchor
it had but no coat veneer
looked quite drab and dry and drear

no paint nor precious metal
did hide its strong 'n sturdy fettle
its pure wooden essence
provided its inner luminescence

so when next you spy the gentle bow,
the urbane polish and sweet 'hello',
don't be fooled to say 'wow',
not all is good that bears a glow.

manners maketh not a man,
though they may add to pleasantness,
inside can lie a trashing-can
though outside all is eloquence

it's the acts 'n speech 'n honesty
that make a true man's worth,
they give the soul its modesty,
the true gold on this earth.

they tell a tale 'bout a bottle filling with all the tears
shed from all the pain 'n misery of all the years
all the suffering, all the tortures,
all the plundering from earth-scorchers
all the famine and the fever and the fears

and when that bottle's reached its limit will be the time
when salvation awoken starts its clock to chime
when war and famine end
humanity grief amends
and forgotten will be the ache and gloom of crime

what kind of bottle is it that never fills
regardless of the slain and horde of kills,
regardless of the river
of blood and pain and shiver
unending on the hard earth flows 'n spills?

everyone is the writer
of a masterpiece
written not with typewriter,
pen or quill of geese
rather this work is scribed
with kindness 'n good deeds
the goodness that's been imbibed
in fufilling others' needs,
its pages are the hours
that've been wisely spent
a garden of rare flowers
emitting perfumed scent
this is your magnum opus,
not some dusty tome,
recording your true focus
whilst this world was your home

he shook the sheet o' cotton,
                                               torn beyond repair
and aired the slept-in bed
                                               home and nighttime lair
shooed out the air that's rotten
                                               privy to his despair
and laid the warm bedspread
                                               attenuate, threadbare

he puffed up the pillow
                                           must put on braver face
and laid it down with care
                                          straightening out the lace
opened up the window
                                         looking up to space
and let in cleaner air
                                         with hope for Divine Grace

thus ushered in the new day
                                        his heart in hope and prayer
of new earth, and sunshine ray
                                        with beat of love-affair
as yesterday's forgotten,
                                        his hands carving out the air
as comes a new born day.
                                        as comes the L-rd of care.

tried to light a candle
a flame by the window
squashed by a sandal
an ogre and its shadow

dark like the night,
where the black is bright,
in favourite haunt
his prize he taunts
his suffocating air,
of decay and blight,
in web of hair -
i've lost the fight.

lost the fight 'gainst invincible darkness
envelops all, the heart, and heartless,
***** the life with nonchalance
blocks all light from ambience

hanging, gaunt, i sink still further
hellfires cackle with glee and fervour
lick my soul with blackened tongue
from lifeless body hung and strung

-
Based on 'Oranges and Lemons'

Lozenges from heaven
Says minister of depression

It'll cover the shillings
Deficit in our billings

That's coz I'm brainy
Says administrator daily

We're not in a ditch
Never had a glitch

We're in years o' plenty
Since year of 1920

We'll grow and grow
I've always said so

[I'm in the know
With doctorate to show]

Here comes a whopper
To chase you to bed

And here comes a scandal
To chop off your head

glistening with mountain dew
tiptoeing in ballet shoe
from deepest black to darkest blue
she kisses sky to start anew

and from the silence, the sweetest tune,
the music of the sun and moon,
in harmony with daybreak's croon,
ripples softly to nature's boon

as Dawn spreads open her sweet wide wings
of rainbow colour and silver'd strings
and with the birds begins to sing
of ancient One, the King of kings

[Who sits on high beyond the all
Who places high beneath the small
Who sees all life, from Spring to Fall,
Who sees the little and the tall]

And as she tells her tale of old,
the sun he spins his web of gold
o'er high mountains and valley folds
delighting lacewings and marigolds

as moonlight sphere bows with grace
allowing sun to take his place
allowing sun to start his race
with redshot eyes and blushing face

and in the light of new born day
sweet Dawn in silence fades away
just like the wave that ebbs in bay
as girl and boy come out to play

Hickory dickory dock,
the mice run up the clock,
the clock struck one -
other mice all run -
he's ok, but he's suffering from shock

he took the mike
became inspired
crowds hanging
on every word

his appetite spiked
'i'm being admired'
by looks wide-eyed
of human herd

as hypnotised,
mesmerised,
all statement accepted
without a question

thus voluble windbag
in adulation
believes own narrative,
i'm god of one nation.

no-one knows
i'm stuck in here
where no-one goes
'n no-one can hear

i've got no strength left to struggle
to dicker, bicker or to wrangle
soon a sound like geese-a-gaggle
as the rope squeezes the vagal

and then, release from veils 'n parable,
release from meanings allegorical,
from pretence, lies 'n deception,
from politic's priests of misdirection.

and then all bliss?
or a snap and a hiss
of ten thousand voices
all of my choices

haunting chasing
watching me racing
for in hell there's no escape
from black devil in hooded cape