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Kiss Of Kindness -

Speak to me that I might hear
Your smile upon ones aged ear
Reach out with soft gossamer
To touch to breathe to heal to cure
That I may pray in peace once more
Leave all evil nevermore
Melt again into blessed bliss
Feel the kindness of your kiss
Martin Heath Jun 1
Take Me To The Circus -

Take me to the circus, up on the hill in my head
Where dancing bears tumble, 'mongst spots of hot blues and reds
Figurines float on ropes, tight skinned glittered leotards
Fixated on her beauty, swinging b'neath silky stars
Until she falls from grace, rushing t'wards my heart below
Only to be captured whole, in nets of fine spun gold
Shield me tho from the clowns, swollen eyes that peer so sad
Crawling out from tiny cars, in suits of checkered plaid
Tigers perched like kittens, as the master waves his wand
Like Merlin the Magician, ancient spells cast upon
Lady Godiva circling, astride her thoroughbred
Take me to the circus, up on the hill in my head

Take me to the carnival, b'hind the eye in my mind
Down the milky lit midway, childlike senses resigned
That I might lick the candied, cotton cumulus clouds
Gathered in heated masses, the barker's voice so loud
Spin on the Hatter's tea cups, blurring visions of fright
Riding wheels that touch the sky, revealing northern lights
Perched on painted ponies, my favorite gelding Bay
Spinning sounds symphonic joy, no longer now afraid
Clutching prized brown teddy bear, tho never knocking down
Bottles stacked like cords o' wood, ***** flying 'round 'n 'round
Red candy coated apples, corndogs on which to dine
Take me to the carnival, b'hind the eye in my mind

Take me to the sideshow, here beside my restless thoughts
Where flirtatious fantasies, easily sold 'n bought
Motormen in helmets, bikes roar inside wood barrels
Gazing down in disb'lief, tossed pennies my wishing well
Thru a house of horrors, where blood soaked creatures could crawl
And Uncle Sam tilts his hat, on stilts 'least twelve foot tall
Warm moist hand holding mine, affection once dearly sought
Take me to the sideshow, here beside my restless thoughts

Take me to the freak show, up on the hill in my head
Where I may gaze upon, dressed Demons in deviled red
Tattooed Lady lounging, fondling the forked tongued lizards
That cling with sharpened claws, to bared breast of the absurd
While serpents squirm in unison, fire breathing breaths
Daggers plunged into the depths, taunting the Devil's death
Here in my fevered frenzy, mother preys by the bed
Take me to the freak show, up on the hill in my head


[ " painted ponies" respectfully borrowed
from, 'The Circle Game' by Joni Mitchell
© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC,
Crazy Crow Music
/ Siquomb Music Publishing ]
Martin Heath May 24
Quiet The Roar -

Quiet the roar of incoming tide
When sonorous sighs so surge
Capture lost longings now crystallized
Beside the corpse of courage

Lay my wreaths of remorse e'er softly
O'er wind blown Wisteria leaves
'n bury the heath berries gently
That one day may they believe

Quiet the weeping receding tide
Leaving stained shores to sorrow
Where only sea's sullen shells reside
'waiting one last tomorrow

Lay my body o' beliefs once lived
O'er wind blown grasses of green
Bury the mistletoe's melted kiss
Beside her angelic sheen
Martin Heath May 23
Burn -

Infested fears flirt with the flickering flaunting flame
Licking the remnants remaining singeing senseless shame
Waxed worries melting amongst the marbled mantelpiece
Ceases to amaze engaged in relentless retreat
From the fright of failure thrown against the noonday sun
To soon engulf the graciousness dire deeds undone
Burn burn the wick of wisdom's wit while voices prepare
The final fleeting fantasies of damaged despair
Martin Heath May 17
The Bells In The Meadow -

In the wildness of my western meadow drenched in green
Where as a boy and a boy weary in dreams
Toads wore thorns of Kings roamed beneath black cloaked stars
And stars that then danced in bright milky white rapport
Sun in summer's time soon scorched small minds at play
Laying in wait in the tall old Oaks curled in her crusted arms
Ambushing boys armed with carved wood rifles blood red dried scars
In the wildness of my meadow lay unborn futures unseen

Meadow's wilderness wild washed in false sweet delights
Stalking feeding pheasants 'til fleeing in frantic flight
Fantasies soared 'neath the sun soaking closed narrow rows
Of fattened trees dangling figs for me and the shy sparrow
Wind in winter's time blew until moist warm mornings in May
While the dogs and the dogs of the children still ran
Free to root out red furred squirrels so frightened and
Flee over the meadow's grass green while futures burned bright

Memories quieted on the western meadow
Where as a man and a man of years unknown
Grown the tarnished thistle thick the stained sweetbrier
Cowering in the bright milky waywardly stars
Horned toads gone their tired desperate ways
Carved rusted wood rifles line dried Christmas Tree forts
Hounds their great grandpups groomed in gallant rapport
Memories of my western meadow green where broken bells toll
Martin Heath Oct 2018
Lost Youth -

Stripped of fanciful youth
Fed to lions for some merciless sport
Fate forbidding mere choice

The dealer comes up short
Denied luxury of a final voice
Left to fend off the night

Parishioners rejoice
Bloodstained sidewalk outside seems quite not right
Child awaits the new day

Lions refuse to fight
Then mourn the lamb that lies down on broadway
Panhandlers beg for truth
"The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway" ,
written by Genesis ©1974
Martin Heath Sep 2018
Reincarnation -

Today sensing I saw you 'least I think that of a squint
That of a telltale glint a telltale wonted wink
Straight thru to my soul in an inquisitive slant
Passing 'long side somewhat a furtive glance

Yet only to see 'twas not actually you
But a passing stray cat looking back at me

Then down past that path 'long crippled creek
A voice softened so sweet held such mystique
Awakening times of verse uttered in rhyme
As we laid in summer's parched pastimes

Yet only to hear 'twas not actually you
But a proud jay of blue words 'pon my ear

'round the bend 'n riding the wind
Fragrance of hyacinths thru the tamarind
Swearing 'twas you obscured in a trance
Memories now beckon of lost romance

Yet to inhale 'twas not actually you
But the wind thru the willow weeping quite frail

Out of those woods feeling fingers of flesh
Is this you again your spirit refreshed
As if reliving our mourned childhoods
New life 'mongst these ole cottonwoods

Yet only to feel 'twas not actually you
But a monarch alighting so quite genteel

Today I saw you 'least I think
From your telltale shine so quite so distinct
Not sure exactly it might conceal
Your rebirth 'n the wonders it might reveal

Perhaps the morrow we'll meet remember
We two peas in that perpetual pod
This cycle of life 'n its cycle of death
Complete in replete with each of our breaths
As each we breathe in strolling once more
Hand in hand 'long life's promenade
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