On the East Coast of England there’s a small resort
Called Cleethorpes, where I happen to reside.
And out towards the Pleasure Park
A short way from the shore
There is The Boating Lake.

I love to go there on a still, sundowning evening
When the parking is free.
To walk those walkways around the lake,
Dreaming I’m on Starfleet Academy Campus.
Walkways flanked by lawned hillocks and shrubs.

The lake is fringed by red-flowered reeds
And punctuated by ducks and geese.
Families and couples roam about
As I sit in meditation
Watching and listening
To the central fountain play.

Such a tranquil scene,
Far from the madding crowd.
Go over the bridge and cross the mini-railway line:
Before you reach the saltmarsh and the sea
You’ll find a stretch of shrubbery and trees
A haven for the birds
And for me,
As I walk my favourite path.

The lake is thus a prelude
To some splendid growth
As nature does its thing.

Serene and tranquil everything
A spiritual feeling
As I meditate
Beneath multi-layered clouds
Under endless sky.

Paul Butters

Fading out of existence
Time breaking down your resistance,
Slipping into the darkness
As it steals your awareness,

The golden light is disappearing
piercing power is fading from the clearing,
The mind is going, along with sight
As the soul dissipates into the night.

And will is lost
in the  darkness of your mind
This force in ruthless and unkind
You might soon dies
As your memories fade into the skies

It takes a hold of your being
Deludes what you’re seeing,
violates your mind
Till there’ nothing to find,
Yet you’re shrouded in mystery
And now this is your history.

It happens every night
And it’s something you can’t fight,
It strikes with a fright,
And you’re lost in the night.