The songwriter tells it plainly
“Everybody wants to go to Heaven but, nobody wants to die”
That dark price we pay, to see Heaven
And what would I see, were I there?
The poets and painters have crafted a vision for me
Of white clouds and wonder
Of many warm embraces
In a place that is joy
Where time would not mark my shadow
Nor evil stalk my mind
Yet all artist imagery is of earth
And familiar places and things
But the inspired writing says
“Eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, neither has there been conceived in the heart of men, the things that God has prepared for those who love him”
For Lazarus did not report of Heaven
When risen from the dead
For it would have been unkind
To ****** him back from paradise
And King David did not enter Heaven
When he breathed his last
Yet if I should stand and gaze from Heaven's lofty heights
To that which lies behind
What peace would I find?
To see the world disintergrate
And dread and disease consume
To observe all suffering in an instant
And be powerless to intervene
To see my children toil
And age before my eyes
To witness war and want
Yet not to be able to extend a loving hand
To gaze upon the lonely billions
And the broken-hearted
For that is not paradise
That I cannot bear
And I decline the invitation
Heaven is not for the likes of me
For I was born on this planet
This precious home
Of colour and light
Of life and love
I would then plead
To spend eternity upon this soil
Even after death
For who could be happy in Heaven
When a promise of everlasting future is offered on this earth?
And I hear the sacred promise
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth, and they shall dwell forever upon it”
I will wait
I will sleep
Umtil He calls

I have been a pilot and a doctor, and a chieftain, I've run a café and a veg stall and a shop
Discovered forests down the road, and caught a magic toad, and stormed the castle high upon the mountains top
I've walked about on Mars, flown a rocket to the stars, and been to places that are yet unknown to men
And just to cap it all, to amaze you, and enthral, I did all that before I was even ten

There are no boundaries for young minds, no comprehension of time, they are eager to explore this fun-filled place
Kids are free and are unshackled, from the first shake of their rattle, they refuse to run with rats in our sad race
I grew up with simple toys, simple pleasures, simple joys, yet life was then so full and so untouched
Not ashamed of mummy's hand, or a bucket in the sand, we had so little yet, we really had so much

We grazed our knees and ruined our clothes, raced around on tippy-toes, and turned a mangy dog into our bestest friend
We camped out, we camped in, went too high upon the swing, yet we never thought the fun would ever end
Daddy's voice was law, mummy's whack was sore, and being grounded was so harsh and was so tough
But we knew that we were safe, and we knew we were secure, and we really knew our home was full of love

Children were children and grown ups were grown ups, and teenagers were somewhere in between
Bad things were small, like the punctured old beach ball, or the sadness of a melted ice-cream
Park-keepers were alert, and everything actually worked, and if we hurt ourselves, mum didn't want to sue
She would kiss it where it was sore, cuddle us some more, then we'd be off and start our climbing up anew

A boy's first kiss was his mum, and love was bubble-gum, and his first crush was simply lemon or lime
Girls were chased but never kissed, cause you deliberately missed, and names could only hurt you if they rhymed
Little girls dressed in mum's shoes, and didn't get the blues, and they'd only dance in front of cuddly toys
They loved dolls and Winnie-Pooh, playing bubbles with shampoo, and they had no time for silly things like boys

Batman was always kind, and it would never cross his mind, to **** a villain, or ever break the law
You'd always be polite, always kiss your mum goodnight, and you'd always leave your cabbage for the poor
To be gay was to be glad, being bad meant simply bad, and there was no such thing as being overfed
Phones were just pretend, and your dog was your best friend, to protect you from the troll under your bed

But this world is ever changing, with more stress and much more danger, and the children must adapt or they will fail
Where once our kids were shy, and pleasing to the eye, we are now forced to grab a tiger by the tail
Like the trickle of the stone, before the mountain crashes down, life is gaining speed at an alarming rate
They are pushed and are in pain, carry guilt and carry blame, and there is no one to shield them from their fate

Home alone, and alone away, taught how to text but not to play, they just exist within their messed up little world
Forced to survive and take the knocks, always governed by the clock, too soon they are men and women, not boys and girls
Good and bad are now retired, you can do what you desire, it's no longer sin, but a life choice for childrenkind
And is there's a price to pay for this new fun, and for looking at the sun, there's always credit, which is far off (in their mind)

Goblins and trolls have become vampires and ghouls, and Batman is a nasty growling man
The train set is no longer cool. Its trains and stations are for fools, Playstation is now the thing that makes the man
Advice comes from the web, or magazines instead, because these sources have all the answers we need to know
Goodbye to picnics, sandcastles, parks, finger-puppets in the dark, these simple joys our children now let go

Today the little ones know too much, and their knowledge is that such, they are aware of all that mum and dad now do
The facts of life, thanks to the web, terrorism's dread, ***, carcinomas and Avian Flu
Immersed in the occult, and books that teach how to insult, they spend more time with gadgets than they do with humankind
The things they watch would scare grown-ups, the door to innocence is shut, while their music feeds the anger of the mind

“No” is spoken, never heard, simple manners never learned, “Love thy neighbour” is replaced by “dog eat dog”
But they are children, not our pets, they need to love, and not regret, and they need to find the time to think of God
Like arrows that are aimed, we can steer them through life's game, to ensure they find the target that they need
That of happiness and hope, take their hand, don't let them *****, and we may yet behold the day when they are free

So enjoy their childhood years, feed the ducks, and not their fears, and if they've gone too far, help them to rewind
Let them skip, let them skate, let them even lick their plate, and the memories will be forever in your mind
And before you do regret, and your little ones forget, and this life comes and sweeps them from your door
Give them back their childish ways, and keep the world at bay, and let the children just be children once more

My ladies are not lost
They tarry a while
Loaded down with disturbance and hurt
With loneliness and fear
Yet she is gentle, as the dew at dawn
As the breast of the thrush
And she is true like the sycamore
She has pain that tears at her soul
That bruises her very heart
She has deep sadness
That swallows her down and steals her hope
But all is not gone
Is not out of reach
A day is coming
A day of new beginnings
A new world
With a new sun
That will light the path to the real life
She will cleanse her tired feet in the moist green meadow
And dance among a flame of tulips
A garland of daisies will be strung upon her pale neck
She will kiss the fallow deer
And frolic with the little ape
Her sadness will be wiped clean by the streams of joy
That will flow endlessly from the mountain
Trees will bow to her with offerings of colour
All flowers and tastes will excite her endlessly
White topped mountains will be her candles
Lit by the glorious light of a new dawn
Love will overwhelm her
And take her by the hand
For she has been told
Her eye will behold
Sights that she has never beheld
Sounds that she has not heard
Her mother's voice singing a lullabye
The face of her grandmother's mother
The sweet echo of pure silence
Her little ones will flourish, free of their scars
And she will taste motherhood for the first time
With all the rich meaning that it brings
And she will greet her lost ones, stolen by death
There will be no trembling or hiding
No sting of creature, or death
She will not need to hope
For all her hopes will be fulfilled
All malice and breakdown of spirit will be lifted from her gentle heart
That it might be soft and true again
As her beauty
She will never be lost again
Never know mourning again
She will forever know peace
As a green forest that sways in a gentle breeze
That whispers to her
Words of love, of comfort and rest  
For a daystar will rise in her heart
And she will be saved
She will be whole
For she has bowed to a righteous king
And he has promised my loves, my ladies
They will be there, on that cleansed earth
When that kingdom arrives
The kingdom of love and healing

This wretched woman's time had come
To reconcile her sins and pains  
Her own blood had become her cage
As spirit dripped from her sweet frame

She yearned to reach out and adore
To exorcize her scarlet foe
And find a rare and blessed relief
That only this man could bestow

Her breath in gasps, her heart aflame
She gently negotiates the crowd
Until she spies salvation's form
His garment whiter than the clouds  

With secret prayer she extends her hand
And gently grasps his flowing gown
Desperate that he does not
Notice her and turn around

For this moment she has lived
Enduring lonesome misery
Till hope appeared in prophet form
And a promise that could set her free

But as she knelt with hand gripped tight
The garment's owner sensed her touch
And turned to gaze upon her plight
And stooped and smiled and raised her up

His face ablaze with love and joy
Her spirit soared and her heart did swell
As he praised her courage and her faith
And told her they had made her well

The Christ had conquered blood and pain
And other times the sightless eyes
Had calmed the storm and eased the rain
And even death his will despised

He taught patience and mercy true
To trust in God to set things right
And forgive those who learn to hate
And cease from anger and it's fight

He made no riches, nor praises sought
But humbled he at others feet  
Rejected men's sad power games
And thus selfishness did defeat

Today this world acclaims his name
And sings his praises publicly
Two billion followers know his words
And call us “Christianity”  

Yet, if this world's “Christian” lands
Are grasping Jesus' garment tight
Then why is peace so far away
And nations ready or the fight?

For not prince of politics is Jesus Lord
or king of fury thus unleashed
But for grace and God's own glory
Is he the blessed “Prince of Peace”

A delicate crimson rose endures
The snow and winds of winter's grasp
And closes up and wilts a while
Until Summer sun it finds at last

In this world of unrighteousness
Where brutes and ogres' egos roam
And selfishness abounds like weeds
She exists in shattered form

With silent seething disilusion
And saddened, unrequited love
Maddened by the unjust acts
of those who advertized their “love”

A vain and self-indulgent god
Did sieze himself her mind and oath
Presiding as the demons do
In hidden acts pronounced as gross  

Enduring the madness of matriarchs
And the hostility of tribal gang
Where smiles of familial welcoming
Turned into savage, jealous fangs  

Yet though the bitterness seeps through
And anger permeates her skin
Sweet dignity she still retains
And devotion stll resides within

Her adornment incorruptible
Her spirit mild and resolute
Did not return evil for evil
But stood and conquered it with good

Happy is she who has endured
And in mild subjection did remain
Showing honour to a painful degree
To bring honour to Jehovah's name

And though she stumbled in despair
Yet withstood for righteous sake
Her loyalty, the beast could not sever
Nor divine concsience could he break

For like the rose at winter's end
That bears a striking sharpened thorn
Her petals still are soft and pure
And her soul with beauty still adorned

For the righteous one who sees all things
And whose love she yet retains
Will never for eternity forget
The love she showed for his great name

And should she reach out and beseech
And trust his salvation once again
She would know with certainty
He has never let go her hand


(For my precious daughter, Cheryl, who has been to hell and back)

In ancient times was born a day, for festival and joyful feast
Where all would gather eagerly, to pour the wine and roast the beast
And at first these new days, gave the people needed rest
Gave them pause from toil and worry, made them feel that they were blessed

But over years and under Eons, new days contrived were added on
Days to worship fellow men, or worship season, moon and sun
And soon this list of special days, got beyond all real control
And came to be under compulsion, and so began to take their toll

And we forgot the origins, the purpose and the why
And we embroiled with heavy hearts, with cost and groan and sigh
A day for Christ born and dead, on a day he did not choose
To self-indulge with merriment, and Christianity re-use

But soon became the bearded saint, and jolly man of snow  
Or chocolate feast and bunny hop, and mystic mistletoe
A day for thanks, a day for dads, a day for Saints and ghouls
And one for lovers and for mothers, and even one for fools

Remembering ****** victory, or the start of a new year
A day to gorge and one to fast, for fireworks and fear
And a day for every one of us, so we are worshipped too
To make us feel loved just once a year, cause once will have to do

And then the days become the law, and choice is left undone
Compelled to celebrate each time, or risk us being shunned
For who can deny a chocolate egg, for child or lover sweet?
Or deny a mother's floral gift, or children's spooky treat?



Who would dare to question these, and stop from living lies?
Who will defy these decrees, and in the face of pressure fly?
For we comply, against our will, while we incur the debt
Though the birthday boy be a loathsome lad, for one day he is the best

And children challenge strangers, for sugar under threat
And mum is glorified one day, then daily we forget
For if we are forced to love one day, when and how and who
How less likely all year round, do we tell them “I love you”?

Yet among these obligation days, one was left behind
A day given long ago, but one to which we're blind
Remember that day of rest that was, when families were one
And the world would stop and contemplate, and gather in the sun  

No more days like that for us, this world has gone beyond
Past truth and love and God above, to whom we once belonged

And so I choose to have a day, where no-one is adored
Where no purchase is required, one which we can afford
Where the corporates do not dictate, and sell plastic love to us
And the measure of our affection, is not how much it cost

And give no name, nor choose a date, but fellowship hold dear
And warmly tend to love and friend, on all days of the year

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I bring to you a sad affair
Someone who evokes such fury, yet one who faces deep despair

For this, the accused who faces death, or lives according to your decree
Who makes no statement with dying breath, yet silently invokes her plea    

What crimes are done by this lost soul, what evil deeds did she aspire?
And where the witness of her death toll, the evidence that guilt requires?

No crime recorded, no victim slain, no trace of ****** or robbery
No voice of condemnation raised, none here to force a guilty plea  

She has no wrongs in her short life, has no deceit within her soul
No hurt has she, nor human spite, no determined selfish goal  

But one accuser, here today, one joined in life and woven fate
This one though will have her say, and claim the life she helped create

This witness claims to suffer pain, and a prison, should the accused survive
That her life will ebb and be restrained, and sadness would always reside

For some accusers have been defiled, by monstrous beasts of lust and hate
Others young and so beguiled, are induced by charm, so participate  

Others spy disease and defect, and cry acts of mercy to prevent
They choose to extinguish and protect, rather than one day regret

And then are those alone who strive, who cannot toil with life's results
And so instead, they choose their lives, and cry for freedom do exult

But where in these stands the accused, silent and awaiting fate
Her breath and freedom she is refused, for all the reasons the witness states

Is she alive, does she have form, within her soft and warm abode?
Where her heart beats, and fingers form, and from miracles she is wove    

Was she not also one defiled, is she not young and helpless too?
Would malady she reject, and death instead would opt to choose?  

And would not her life loneliness cure, and make a future with great light?
And comfort one who gave her life, and join her purpose true and right

For the accused can offer more than this, should she be allowed today to  live
Has so much that she can share, so much love and joy to give

For in our world, where children die, through hate and fate and evil men
We cherish those we lost too soon, and yearn to see our child again  
  
But what of the accused today, what future do we her deny?
A nurse, a doctor or a friend, a mother of so many lives?

How sad the accuser, so resolute, yet desperate to belong
In a world where our rights are so absolute, that they obscure the wrongs

And what she gains through this sad act, she loses so much more
A legacy of love and hope, a daughter who will adore

And so good people of the jury, I ask that you reflect
Upon the life of this dear child, so amazing and perfect

For my client has committed no crime, no evil deed or word
Is blameless and so innocent, and would not have caused this hurt

I ask therefore for mercy true, that her life be now redeemed
That she might live, and love and learn, and so pursue her dreams


"Your eyes saw even the embryo of me."  - The Bible