". Come with me , come come ". ( giggle )
Her hand stretched out , it ' l. be fun , !  

My heart is now encased on my mantelpiece next to a fetching
Red rose .
How pritty in bloom ,
Yet cut from its roots does it not perish and die ?
Like the soul of man were starved of love would it not like a flower
In a vase but cut off from its maker . ?
For in life how fleeting is breath ,
for God has taken to find eternal rest .
A ticking of a clock ,
the hour hand passes twelve. for if we fear time what s. Left is only
the absence of light .

My hearts on my mantelpiece  I left it there it's so full of pride .
I left it there as it was full of love and beauty ,
and full of patience and kindness .

Yet I raced in speeding cars through burger bars  ,
swigged Champagne and snorted ******* ,
Caught a rail road train half way to paradise .

Now my hearts dying and my love has grown cold .

The telegram man on his Nobel steed stand before me ,
with his letter of death ,
My condemned dammed soul if that letter I take in driving bitter rain.

What hope have I that I should ever die to gain nothing better than
This ?
........

Another Telegram man appeared on a mountain far away
a ray of light that caught my eye on that mountain far away ,
Where green fields and water ran like steams of living gold ,
and I saw a broken heart ,
and a ****** cross ,
and bracken  a steep hill and a long rugged road
and a hand so scared from a Roman nail stretched out with a staff ,
and a beautiful heart .
" Follow me "

An open canvas ,
holds a white blank page ,
the poet sits in silence ,
his mind full of fanciful thoughts of dreams .
We visit gallery's in our mind as vast and grand as any oil on canvas , and construct words as majestic as any William Turner or Greig .
The sun rises ,
The sun sets ,
Waves crash and fall ,
the tide comes in ,
the tide goes out ,

our pens and hearts arise and set with each one,
The dawn and fall of another day .  


The moon shines down in part and in full ,
and we dream of a man and wish he could not tell ,
of broken minds ,
and misspelt words
empty rooms  ,
and coffee cups ,
that a flick of a bristle could not erase ,

and we sit back and wonder if our words don't rhyme ?
And all the time our minds must dash to flashes and images we
have not seen in a thousand dreams .
nor set a table and chair and invite them in .
For when fantasy rhymes our hearts entwine and ink must flow forever ,
and when they do it's just like dark chocolate porrage
Or a thanks from a friend who's fence she mended to see you .

that smile she gave ,
That laugh you cought ,
The dinner she cooked ,
Her beating heart when all was still
Her hand in yours that said I love you .

And in all these ways  ,
Paul saw in awe ,
Before the dawn of time ,
God said you are mine '.
The
 poet sat back in his chair and read his words ,
With candle wick low and ready to bed down
For the night his words lived on ,
Until all had gone ,
and there was no light ,
But dreams ,
and our minds ,
don't stop .

A new day ,
a poets dream ,
of poetry yet unseen ,
for without a new day ,
there would be no dreams .
For three years ago a paper died ,
and my poems were born out of such misery came .

Oh this is such a happy morn ,
the grains are ripe and her beauty is bliss ,
for this morning she planted a kiss upon my lips .

O beauty that is as ripe as the day ,
the July morning sun will rise ,
In greatest spender,
before our eyes .

For we shall  lye before it shall appear ,
in fields of sunflowers dancing here .
And you will wear
nothing but a smile ,
for grains were ripened for such a time as this ,
to avail her beauty before my eyes ,
just as the sun is about to rise

When. Summer.s. evenings. fall. ,
And leaves. Of. Green turn to gold ,
and fires. In haths are stoked ,
and the sun gets lazy , .
Darkness steals its. Light .
Then  The churches are full ,
and each voice sings herolds. Winter and gusts. Of hale . ,
In hymns of thankfulness to God for a harvest .
Tins piled high for those in need are never to be forgotten .
A sermon on stones and seeds and chaff blown by the wind ,
Only then
The harvester will call .
Ring the bell
When in your beds ,
Or walking home
On rocky soil  don't. stay ,
For in  the spring we dance and forget we sow out seeds for  another day
For on stones like chaff ,
Lay seeds on rocks ,
and gravel get blown away .
by hale and gale ,
Wind and rain
Like time will pass.
And what was lost ,
Can never be gathered
When the harvester draws near.

The sun rose today
Early , behind dark thick clouds ,
If only the cloud had moved ,
Shifted ,
Away ,
Just a glimpse of its golden Ray's would I have seen .
Yet my dark cloud yet bust forth with silver lining ,
And no water it holds anymore , ready to drench
My heart anew .
For that was but yesterday , Christs love now shining through .

When I was born man sent rockets into space ,
Castros missiles pointed war heads ,
yes Pigs of War gathered like none before .
Screaming I came into this dark world ,
yet craved nothing but my mothers milk ,

Then Winter came .
But foulest ice ,
and snow stopped trucks in their tracks ,
Milkmans will did break .
For wind and hale could never stop me or my will forsake .
Yet how the Cheve Impala roar ,
found her picking sea shells from a tropical islands sandy Shaw .
A Galaxy of moon rivers could ever temp me to walk away
from its ever fading moon light night .
How I found this darkness like a worm finds its rest ,
How this slab of mine turned over again and again.

If only I had seen Brasil dance through Italian defences ,
Sons of Welsh miners ' Edwards to Williams he must score '
Claim the triple crown .
As is Gypsy was penned for Zurichs smoke filled concert halls ,
Santana's Latin rhythms light up Woodstocks samba party .
Or two lovers in each other's arms after war had ended.

Only my rose is no longer red ,
for no one does its petels bleed ,
and my hand is so numb with pain .
For my rose lies fallen in the snow ,
and other feet have vainly passed over ,
Worst of all
I feel l have lost your love .

If I were a poet I would walk in fields of green ,
hand in hand with my fair maiden. amugst
Crows I had not yet seen .
If I were a poet  by pillow sky's of blue ,
You would walk beside me hand in hand ,
by a pebbled running stream ,
and as dawn broke walk barefoot along side hills I'd never been ,.
Then the bright morning star would be on some distant planet far away ,
Unable to temp ,
and take this blessed peace away .
For as Christ in all his glory Witnissed  Satan fall like a bolt out
Of a firmament so poetic only a canvas on grey and black would do .




As if poetry were like apples only a red or green to pick ,
Ripe and juicy ,
Yet rotten and so sweet .
.
with tables set before me one with a bowl of fruit below ******
Sky ,
the other bread and wine  set before me under this benevalant Welkin vault .
One of poison ,
One of love ,
And so to grey sky's  and bitter winds I awake ,
under black ice I fall ,
But this way may not be paved with gold ,
Or ladies sweet perfume ,
But poetry and Gods wisdom in Jesus love on a cold Autumble afternoon ..

Would you even notice the quietus in my heart ?
It forms an empty shell that’ longs to depart .
A dinner guest who’s eyes are dead
who’s memories are but a floral death in you’re bed .
for all you’re sweet poses ,
and eyes that twinkle ,
brought nothing but lies .
For inside i have died
like you’re words are lost
In caves in my mind
their echoes of thoughts still run dear .

The door quietly closes ,
my clock strikes on the hour ,
and sweet are you’re posies ,
curtsys and smiles,
for. Youre  bed of lavender ,
holds sinister smiles .
Yet I’m alone with all these thoughts inside my head .
for you aren’t around to sweeten the blow ,
since you left an hour ago .

For blessed is the night when sleeps shadows awake ,
and take my minds away from this place .

Set a place you’re dinner guest is here,
a ghost in a shell empty and cold draw near .
For I will go to hell in this burnt out shell ,
and laugh so friends can hear ,
then turn off the light ,
and sleep untill you are near .

To all  my lovely followers  thank you
and have a blessed Christmas and New year x

From worn out sheets and pillow dreams sleep can never hold the dreamer. For
even now the Sun has yet to rise at four in the morning .
the town halls. Clock still shrouded by the absence of light ,
and the rain like pellets brought only a soreness to my eyes ,

yet brought a youthful. exuberance to my legs not felt in months .
For what was once dawn at five in the morn has still to rise in August.
And Wicked. Schemes of medieval dreams of a tyrant King for a loaf of bread a monk and a toad and a goblet of gold could ever keep this ball of fire from rising .
No more than '. Twenty shillings for a loaf of bread for what was once half a penny .
a monk drank to his death of the **** drained from the skin of a toad for many.
andKing would die , but not from its poison .
How Tudor halls when evening falls bolt their doors from it .
It hides the light which once shone bright ,
and pray the sun will rise .
As evil waits outside its gates only theifs and drunkards Persue .
A preachers bench where a dead weight is clenched ,
Gods word from man has no where to hide
as preachers. On Sunday mornings tell ,
Food for the lost at what great cost every soul that listens well .
So as evening shadows draw near .
and cold winds ,
and darker skies. can only beckon .
And evening shadows fall ,
and TV takeaway awaits ,
a light from church's may yet be ready
To. Welcome the weary traveller home .

Oh no

Somewhere between heaven and earth my dear saviour died for me .
A loaf of bread ,
a cup of wine ,
yet there was no lamb on this table divine .
A cross of wood ,
three. Roman nails ,
Somewhere between this cup I drink ,
and the bread I have eaten lies Christ’s. Love for me.

I need it not ,
I need it so ,
My insolent heart lies as cold within the snow .

A curtain was torn before me ,
the sun as if darkness fell ,
a Roman soldier sank to his knees ,
a mother in sorrow weeps .
Yet somewhere between earth a heaven Satan was crushed with ease

Somewhere between earth and heaven a boat lies  out to sea,
It’s horizon is lost in time,
The stars above it shine ,
a child holds a small rugged cross of wood
It’s splinters lie deep inside his tiny hand .
This ship will drown ,
his mercy’s crowned ,
Somewhere between earth and heaven .

This evening as i sat down for tea ,
a fly uninvited ,
followed me .
On my chips it sat ,
but not for very long ,
for in a twinkle of my eye ,
it had gone !

Was I too harsh ?  
Or was I just too up tight ?
For if it had eaten my salad ,
I would have wondered all night .

Only without a further thought ,
or a twiddly doo ,
the fly brought a friend ,
now there were two .

“ Just in time for tea said I ,
for if the spider can’t catch you why should I ?

I didn’t expect any more at my table ,
but as his friend sat on my peas as more as able ,
a third
then a forth ,
then too many to count ,
all flying and buzzing ,
around ,
like I was their best friend in the house .

Is this war that  nation should rise against nation for one plot of
Land ?
Or demons should call on man from Satans rebelius throne
and temp the lonely in solitude to such ,
and for man to call on Gods holy army's to unite against
this sin ,
Flesh ,
and the devil ?
Or is it two lovers who go to war ,
with a ring and a kiss ,
and dreams of Marrage ,
Only for him to be blown sky high ,
and their hearts and ***** embrace no more .
In Afganistan ,
the taliban ,
An open grave ,
For what ?
A holy war ,
A misguided evil ,
A sack cloth of sin .
For just as two little boys with only one toy ,
Should sqobble and fight and cry ,
a dark truth must remain ,
That man is flawed ,
and prone to evil so cancarus. the sin .

For just as moon shine is its glory ,
Hell awaits .

For just as guns are for killing ,
A widow waits ,

And for every shelling and morta bomb ,
a church bell tolls .

But the fig tree shall bloom in summer  
and seas crash upon its shore ,
And men shall return from fighting ,
Pick up their guns no more ,
And lovers walk hand in hand on sandy beach and shale .
Not a bitter word between them ,
Draw love hearts in the sand .

Tonight the evening primrose dies ,
with softer blue and elequent eyes ,
she casts her boat to wider  shores
where she can bathe ,
in lakes as pure .
Where  Lilly white  and Snow White doves ,
bask together  in her lake of purest love .

A place that exsists only in dreams and bygone tales
Where hermits still hide away in caves .
and are never seen except in lillypond dreams of love here and ever after .
A place where only lovers abide ,
and walk hand in hand side by side ,
and talk only in silent whispers to each other
.,

With cherries red such a fruitful bed ,
she picks the fruit in Autumn it is said ,
only to give it to her beloved ,
for she sees a boat  with a flower herein
Where primrose lyes ,
and gently leaves the flower in between her thighs .
And so primrose  opens her eyes ,
as the lovers sail down the river .

And so a tear falls from cicisbeo’s. eyes
for they know not or how or why ,
to comprehend these feelings ?

For a stranger dew ,
hath  fallen .
For a whispy huw of feeling blue ,
has  covered them ,
as falling ash now falls upon the water .

For evening sky’s have now vailed their eyes ,
for  Lilly pond  dreams aren’t always ,happy ever after .

They stand outside Costa coffee shops ,
and line the street with coffees in hand  
one a year to marching band ,
this proud land ,
With wreath to place to mark the place ,
Where an Angel was carved in stone .
From blood red fields to Ashfords greens ,
a village with cart and horse ,
And three churches built to honor God that still cry out for thee .
As time has passed not much has changed ,
We still remember our dead ,
With marching bands ,
and silence .

I awoke on a cold November’s day ,
where I found a mouse on my bed did it lay .
All snug underneath my quilt ,
asleep .
Did I Nudge or push it to awake from it’s day ?
Did I scream to my mother to take it away ?
For the floor boards were creaking ,
there was a crack where carpet used to lay,
shorly it would be better off under the carpet ,
beneath the floor boards on this cold Autumble day ?
Oh so peaceful did it not rise ?
The cat hasn’t awoken ,
The birds have yet to sing ,
and there was i alone with this mouse under my quilt ! .
Yet in peace did it lay .
l hope the cat dos’nt awake ,
for in its death it may partake ?

It’s now mid day and my Mother’s walked in ,.
to wash my Sheets .
In one fail swoop It flys ,
off from my bed ,
on to the floor boards it now lies
and yes I do now  believe ,
It is now dead !

The once green leaves that are no longer brown ,
hath stolen nature’s golden crown ,
Thrown in a grave ,
bound for hell ,
these are  my dreams I remember. So well .
O repentant soul ,
dragged and bound ,
Prepare for winter ,
Steal thy body ,and thy crown .
So take care in all you say and do ,
for no one will remember you.


For My soul is in ******* to my body now .

With heavy chains draped all around
It weeps and wails and keeps me awake ,
Thou Day was once carried.off by angels wings ,
In the days when we could laugh and sing .

And darkness like an army marches in
With snarls and teeth ,
that grind and grin
Which stalks and prowls ,
I feel it’s presance and it’s stare .
yet see it not
But  fear it just as it had lived ,
so beit thus.

For in darkness I shall lay ,
Untill the sea carry’s my bones away .
for I shall at least not see decay .
for I am glad of some small mercies .

swept away by youre handsome prince for
You shall not remember this
for love has its own destiny
and can never again be apart of me .
so when you lay befor3 the night ,
befor you even say “ good night ,
dream of waves washed up upon th3 shore
and you won’t think or dream of me
no more .

Oh blessed sufferer who turns to thee in prayer thy mortal bonds that fetter every single care .
Now the tinker mends ,
How the baker bakes ,
Only to burn his cakes .
Then what of God if all you see are icons of wood and glass ?
Then to dark days go if sofa spend ,
our fragile time must then come to an end ,
and what we touch is real and what we don't  is dead .
Then sleep until death awakes in your Candy castles ,
Sleep until your last breath take .

Oh blessed sufferer who turned to thee in prayer ,
Who faught through carriages of deep dispair ,
Let's Gods love enfold you ,
Cacoon you with his care .

For Butterfly's multicoloured wings to take flight their tiny wings must fight ,
and a Jaguar sinks it's teeth into turtle shell under a moon lite night .
So vultures wings to the soul of man eclipse as demons hatch their
Prey onto lying lips ,
On tender hooks the soul of man ,
Only for light to awake and so demons turn to dust

The hosts of God in their heavenly gaze ,
look forever down on Gods earthly parade ,
of expectant souls so close ,
so dear await their heavenly bodies ....

For it was into life you bore me ,
Into earths sun you draw me ,
ever to you’re gardens of delight.

For it was in the gardens of pleasure we roamed ,
amid the Crystal fountains and pillars of marbel and gold .

You gave me love ,
you gave me light ,
You gave me every pleasure my heart could hold ,

warm was the day ,
cool was the night ,
yet you’re simple pleasures were too much for me to behold .

For I cried out for the cool of the night in the heat of the day ,
yet craved for the warmth of the sun ,
when the moon went away .

So like Satan I fell on insergent wings took flight ,
down down I fell much to Satan’s pure delight,
further and further away from the sun ,
to the dust of the earth .
My insurgent wings that once gave flight ,
are now my only shelter to the beating rains ,
on this God forsaken night .


The only food I have found ,
are the bones of man left in this hole in the ground ,
for there are creatures here bereft of skin ,
for here lies the remains of every man here within .

There is no light ,
no love just fear ,
for I have no idea what has happened here ?
Here i am hungry,
naked and cold
In the light of the sun my dreams have turned old .

Then a light from the sun I saw from afar ,
It’s beam ,
brought warmth to my skin ,
gave flesh to my bones ,
and on the wings of Christ Jesus alone ,
brought me back home ,
as love and light took to flight ,
Light and love went home .

No that didn’t work again lost in a gate way
😭😭😭😭😭😭

The once green leaves  are turning brown ,
as Autumn dons her golden crown .
In leafy meadows that Menander still ,
a  shrivel of leaves ,
down leafy hills .
For could you ever feel my pain ?
did  you and I ever feel the same ?
A cold granit stone is our reminder of where we used to lay
in tall green grass and fields of hay .

Yet  if this is where our love must end  
for at least a rotting corpse just has one friend .
She brings it flowers at weekends ,
to  mourn the loss of her once best friend .

But I don’t even have that of you ,
for all  I get is to walk and talk and think of you .

For what else am I supposed to do ?
For if love was ever meant to be it wouldn’t be for the likes of
you and me .

hanging rainbows from every cloud ,
ducking showers ,
getting wet ,
kissing just when it’s about to rain .
Yet her3 is where our grave yard lies
beneath thick black clouds and stormy skies
And this is where our rainbow ends
sat all alone on my sofa without a friend

My deore,
I was alone ,
you saw me cry ,
the day you lost that twinkle in you’re eye ,
In the quietness of space and time ,
a gentle breeze softly blew .

You saw me crying
Not one tear drop you knew that landed on thy brow ,
or the trickle of blood from you’re forehead into thy eye ,
Somehow ?
The rain forests of heaven their down pours my soul ,
quenched ,
somehow ?

Here come the demons with their chains and tails ,
Cow gut brains ,
and hoofs of blood ,
yet flee in the name of Christ this God of love .



Sins charms I have sat with ,
a table set for two ,
she rolls her eyes ,
only to spit me out like tinder ,
for me to light her anew .

Rolling hills and streams have gathered ,
their lost sheep look up to me
their hoofs caught in the thicket ,
they wait so patently.
As i wander see the sun roll over the mountains tops ,
their eyes still follow me ,
bewitched never still .

My foot once sure and true now slips on clay ,
which falls away .
“ Bind you’re eyes and you’re ears ,
let you’re heart be still ,
look to the breeze and falling dew ,
never let the demons dance so they will follow you .
Like weeds that grow when you are still ,
don’t let them ever bend to their will “   ( the sheep)

See the dead who dance with the priest with a pole ,
he cut off the serpent heads so I’m told .
He hung them on poles on the mountain top .

“;Bind you’re ears
and you’re eyes bind tight
for these things will be you’re ruin ,  “. (. Sheep )
and end in endless night .

Let darkness descend for I have long ,
lost my deore ,
“ Take my hand my long lost deore ,
take my staff ,
for on rock you shall now stand,
for anything else is sinking sand “ .

I  have walked for miles through distant shores,
past eroding cliffs that would be seen no more ,
Past temples of stone swept away by the seas ,
seen war Lords brought to their knees . Tanks have rolled past towns  ,
mowed children and their mothers down .
For a slithering tongue is never up to any good   ,
and evil passes by in a blink of an eye ,
and is never understood.

Two dreamers hope for a new day  ,
as time goes by .
Angel's can only dream of paradise ,
as man  digs for gold.

Yet in Christ Jesus we live and are given the rewards of heaven   ,
as the profits told .

So as Christs tomb stone rolled  ,
they came with clay and stone ,
to seal up the holes of the Captains wifes dove tower .

Built so birds could nest in peace  ,
cement the darkness  ,
let light retreat  ,
and the feathers flew when all turned black  .
Then silence reigned when none turned back .

A dove found a sod  ,
above the flooded ground ,
a day when no light or love could be found ,
brought it to an Angel's arms did lay ,
and watched over man unto this day .

One day they turned to stone out of love  ,
they keep their watch as time moves on ,
a sovereign reminder Gods work is not done ,
his judgement is yet to come.

“ Well there you have it ,
    all suited and booted the outer man
Mr buzz Mr Fuzz ,
catch me if you can ?
I’m the kind of guy you want to meet ,
the kind of man that will lift you off you’re feet .
Have a few jokes ,
give this one a try ,
Is that lady givin me the eye ?
Tall and dark my posture be ,
just waiting for a pretty little thing to bother me .
Here I am quiet table ,
lights are low ,
here she comes
and there I go “


“Now I’m sat here a bumbling wreck ,
afraid to talk ,
sweat running down my neck ,
now there’s jelly in my belly ,
and I’m wondering what’s on the tele ?
What times the train for my journey home ,
Where is the toilet I need a **** .

“ Well that’s been fun and we both agree ,
   I’m not her type ,
  She goes out for a *** ,
and I head to the bar ,
and bring up the courage to talk once more .

Yesterday the Angels came ,
they fluttered to the ground ,
they landed on roof tops and church spires all around ,
was the day the angels fell.

And we came out into the streets and wondered at the sight ,
thousand upon thousands of tiny angels in the skies ,
caught in. the sunlight

They came and settled all around ,
Some made the image of man out of them ,

Others gathered them up to throw   at each other ,
and laughed as each one fell ,
and we’re trampled to the ground .

Others watched as the angels melted when the suns rays turned
their white to grey ,
untill they had a haggered look ,
and had nothing more to say .

Then in the morning ,
they became hard and cold ,

So man slipped and bruised his knee ,
and man  said to himself ,
“ what has God done to me ? “
He sent these angels once pure and virtiuas  In love
but now we have trodden on them to the ground ,

Like witches struggling for breath ,
with a noose around their necks ,
and yet by the morning they couldn’t be found .
disappeared in the cold light of day
and man stood in wonderment and deep despair ,
as how he had treated those God had sent down ,
to help him fly away .

Through grey sky's they cut me down ,
their diggers out of thorn felt ground ,
hundred years I had stood ,
built out of architects visions and plans ,
From beauty I set my eye on you ,
a wandering stranger ,
and wondered how God could have knit anything together as beautiful as you ?
A monument to culture ,
to all that is good ,
yet empty you stand ,
how many years you have stood ,
when all that have learnt from you are all but an Angel carved in stone .
As for those that live ,
oh fond memories they have lost ,
How they have forgotten you .

Look at you now an empty shell ,
and the vandals they came with diggers from hell ,
wealding  their machines until you lay like bricks in the schist.
no memorial for you ,
no facade ,
no folly ,
Just dust .

I turned away I knew I would see you never again ,
but you were never mine just a face in a crowd ,
It all seems like a dream ,
and when my weary head wakes ,
even my memories will fade .
Pigeons will still take rest ,
daisies still grow around you were grave stones lay  .
To no memorial shall lay for you shall be gone ,
like the mirror I held to my grand mothers wardrobe ,
their reflections live ever on .

Hannah stood beside an old oak tree besides a clearing in the wood ,
beneath the ground her Father laid to rest ,
a cross of wood where Hannah's Father stood ,
gathering berries with his daughter in the wood .
To gay abandon they roamed ,
Until dusk caught its evening light ,
and dark clouds stole their evening light .
Berries for bed ,
Hannah's pale cheeks turned to ruby red ,
for the tears she shed .
Where once Hannah's eye would catch some tall dark strangers eye ,
to fleeting wonder strayed ,
now even thoughts for supper lay waste for another day.

Yet from some branch from high above a blackbird sang some sweet
Sonnit of peace ,
that for a moment found its flickering embers of love .
A shawl wrapped up against the cold ,
feet frozen from hard unforgiving ground .

The crow lay dead. behind that tree where Hannah vainly stood ,
In hollow ground underneath  rotting leaves and pieces of wood .
Where snow fell ,
What tales its wings harbored,
to an apple with one bite ,
To an infant child wrapped in holy light ,
To the torcher of a cross ,
To an empty grave ,
To the Glory of Heavens eternal light .

Hannah picked an apple from the wood ,
and cut down a tree ,
Dragged it to her cottage for it was The Christmas Eve .
Red ribbons for her Father ,
Apples to decorate her tree ,
For a woman once ate an apple ,
It is said .

Where ever the wind doth blow ,
it is there my heart shall be
buffeted by the stormy seas ,
the hail stones that sting my skin ,
yet into you’re open arms am I born ,
saved by the midshipman’s tolling bell .

But the mothers love is not like mine ,
a gift from God own store of love .

For she holds her child in sweet regard,
a mothers love wrapped up in a shaul ,
her infant child her gift to all .

And blessed lest we don’t forget the mother who’s child does not
Scream .
to angels born before their time ,
on silver stars and distant dreams
For these  mothers there are no schooling days or toys to buy ,
just bedside prayers and
an emptiness where once such joy layed ,
an empty cot ,
and cuddly toys that hang motionless from the ceiling .

How dark is the sun when you hide you’re smile ,
and the leaves have turned yellow ,
and fall in you’re path as you walk on by .
The  grave yard stones have all shifted not to get in you’re way ,
for even they have seen a happier day .

The seas are all angry their boats tossed like toys ,
Persidens. arms are lifted as a child in his bath tub ,
finds soap in his eyes .

My heart trembles within me and seeks only rest ,
as dark clouds gather and rain falls on you’re breast .

Even the stars i named when the clouds had all gone ,
have left the heavens ,
for even they know something is wrong .
  For even King Johns smile when counting his gold ,
has nothing to you’re frown when all is told !

But when you smile ,
like crimson the stars ,
the sun beams out on sunflower meadows and brings light to you’re
charms .
The trees find their colours all green not turning red ,
and the grave yards lay empty as no one lies dead .
The seas are as quiet as a mill pond in spring ,
for no one has ever seen such a daintier thing .
And my heart now rejoices for you’re tears have all gone .
How lovely the millar who burst out in song .

And yes I still love you what ever you’re refrain ,
and if that grave yard should ever find a happier soul ,
I would gladly join you ,
so you will never feel old again .

When morning gave birth  to such chilling winds ,
a song of love awoke
my weary  soul to sing ,
for this morning I was awoken by angels in the sky.

And all of a sudden there were a thousand angels singing their sweet
songs in praise to God on high .

The nightingale thrush didn’t miss a beat ,
the robins chorus sounded just as sweet ,
the owl and blackbird in harmony ,
all sung with angelic voice ,
Gods heavenly choirs rejoiced  .

And so as the sun danced ,
and the trees found their swing ,
and soon the neighbors dog joined in ,
and the cat and mouse who were just running about ,
stopped for a while ,
and wondered what life was all about ?

I waited for the wretched seas one day to return to me .
Who gave  my love  her resting place .
And so I believed the wretched sea would some day
do the same for me

But whenst it came it came in with a whine ,
and asked me not to waste my time .
And so she left ,
and returned again ,
For she said
“ you’re love is dead ,
  now leave me be ,
  or even you might
  one day
  belong to me ?”             


.

that raging beast that took her life ,
when we were serenading by the banks of the Clyde

A mighty wave took her away ,
for that I am for sure .

And now she asks me ,
Lapping like a dog at her masters feet
When all I wanted  her to do was to  spit and howl .with rage at me .

O cursed sea won’t you please return my love to me



But now You come to me with open arms
For alone I see now,  her footsteps , and her charms ,
dissapearing  into an open grave .
Where not even a shivrless man that was so brave ,
would venture more than his toe to save.
And to wrestle that great beast upon the shore
the likes of which I would see no more .

But out there is where my beloved lies ,
below tranquil seas and dark blue skies
And if I am to see her again ,
Then i must sumon up the gates of hell .
And hense be noted before the brave ,
That in these once troubled waters ,
I did once lend my hand to save .

Then one morning
with a chirping of the birds ,
a body of a young girl once bound to the sea ,
was Surrendered and given back to me .

But I For one was never found ,
Thou in the winds and rains my voice
Can still be found .

she looked at me from where she stood her grave yard eyes were ,
misunderstood ,
she left her heart in a net   ,
catching fireflies in my back garden.

The broken sun now lies low ,
for off to ambiguity she would go ,
and pierce my heart where ever
we  went  ,my forever  
toxic lady.
For I remember to this day ,
her eyes upon me was her prey ,
she sat upon me as I lay ,
my forever Carolina.
For pheasants with crowns pruned
their feathers all around ,
as we first met on the merry go round,
with candy floss lips ,
amongst the punch n Judy.

She span me around until  I dropped ,
my life had become a spinning top ,
then before the coconut shys  ,
she won first prize ,
my ever previous lady .

How I would love to steal her heart ,
go back to the merry go round from the start ,
and her sticky pink candy floss lips ,
of my sugar baby .

A crow did to blackened. Sky's Persue ,
one Crimson thought  in paradise tell .
and flew away past my window without a thought for me .

A sparrow found its rest on a stag at Bushy park ,
as many followed still would not give its heart to me .

And lurid sky's of Ophelia behind a shrouded sun ,
Looked down on Churchills statue .
Who himself a tear did pass as the Crystal Palace To clouded wreath filled. heavens ,
Where glass and iron met with crackling and bangs and billowing smoke
belong, before the Luftwaffe would ever darken England's skys. Of blue .
And so it's Ash from Forign fields and deserts belong ,
To land in England's pasture and turned our sky's to orange and
Red , .
And in those crystal hues. deny to wake in your dreams ,
Or leave a key in your door you had never forgotten before ,
Or go to a shop and wonder why you went ?
Or leave your brolly on the train as you come in from the rain ,?
For in your dreams a train may wait ,
inside. a staircase with white washed lime walls , a Theatre where your greatest performance
Awaits .







.

Where the  river bends ,
and fishing boats were moored ,
for it is by these tranquil waters I have seen her walk .

Now There was a house apron a hill ,
Where the rich found time to mame and ****.
where the foxgloves lined up  all in a row .
Underneath there were fields
and meadows a glow .
Where men who owned but a farthing in rent ,
who toiled for their Lords ,
every day the good Lord sent .

And there was a river where I first met you ,
for you’re eyes were as bright as. the flowers in you’re basket ,
fragile and blue .
“ Tuppence a ha penny each one in bloom
There are fox gloves and roses ,
both picked for spring ,
and daffodils a plenty all singing in tune ,”

half way to paradise if i bought the moon
I thought to myself as I stood by you’re side .

But I wanted from you a flower so dainty and rare ,
tucked away in your basket ,
you were hoping I wouldn’t see it there .

“ Oh please not that one you said with a smile
That one I have set aside ,
You see the man who picks that flower ,
it is with him I must reside .
please buy from me  foxgloves or a rose ,
purple white or yellow and red ,
for there are so many “

So I bid her farewell
and off she went ,
to find her lover by the banks of the Afon Nedd .

And as I was walking away the men soon came ,
In search of a flower as rare as her name.

A stranger rode with his lover into town ,
to buy a flower of love .
For he heard long ago
from a place he didn’t know ,
that if you bought foxgloves and roses ,
from the Afron Nedd
You will end up in bed !


“ Oh won’t you buy this one sir I picked it just for you ?
for you are the one that makes my heart go boom ,
Up to castell  Nedd where the flowers are of violet , pink , and blue .”

“ But mame said the.man my wife wants th3 Roses and foxgloves
of love  not your dainty rare flower O heavens above .”

So now she goes rambling I have seen her alone ,
alone with her most precious flower all on her own .
Walking through the beacons alone and forlorn ,
when I take my horse a riding though fields and planes .

And I still love her dearly if she would just give me a chance ,
to pick that dainty flower ,
and unpick the lock on her heart .

The Buzzard swoops without a sound ,
not with love or grace ,
he can be found ,
but moves in for the **** ,
like us he  bares not guilt .

So like us who have no shame ,
must make haste unto thy grave .

For we like the Buzzards mouse ,
left in his nest for food ,
the buzzard makes play ,
then sinks it’s teeth into flesh then bone .
For If we don’t hold to account of our Godless ways ,
then the holy one will bring an end. to our thoughtless days .

Our souls are left to march one by one to the tune of Angels cries ,
O morbid sound ,
that shall arise ,
that crash without end against a sandy shaw never to be seen again ..
For
in new glorious bodies are we
then left to burn .
tTo roast in hell ,
like Serloin steaks ,
then hung out to dry on tender hooks all ,
like Butchers bait .

So if there is a lesson to learn ,
take notes of what the preacher says ,
that without Christ we are all condemned .
It’s only by grace that we canst make amends ,
for time is running out for Gods parade ,
of the immortal man .

An Edwardian lady ,
with a letter to write ,
she clings to it dearly .
For with fine perfume. to write for , it is sented with a kiss from above ,
and smudged in lipstick and all of her love .

For This secret she holds unto her chest to her is divine ,
for it passes through the ages of time .
All wrapped up in string ,
and richest perfume ,
as she walks down the street with her head in the air ,
With whispers of love to guide her there .
To plump and powder and preserve her pout ,
the freshening air on her face ,
makes her the envy of every gentleman’s glancing embrace .

For she cannot wait to post her letter ,
for tomorrow it will be too late ,
the sooner the better ,

Just in time before she is wed ,
to land on the mat of his Park Lane address ,
for that letter to arrive in the letter box
of her love ,
Scented by the richest perfume .
One last chance before the day to say ,
how much I am looking forward to giving a barrog to my love .

🌹
An Edwardian gent sits down to write ,
for it is his last  chance to do what is right .
To send a final letter before the mail man leaves ,
to his beloved .
He tells of how his heart starts to bleed ,
as the quill of his pen moves to every beat of his heart ,
a thud thud thud as his thoughts run away ,
to tomorrow when he will kiss his bride and say ,
“ Now I have given my heart away ,
I wait for the day I can give a cwtch  ( Kutch ) to my wife ,
for .
“ Our silky cocoon has opened to colours so bright ,
Oranges and blues dazzled by the suns beaming light ,
adorned forever ,
In sweet twilight.
Dwi  Wedi  cwympo. ,
for I have fallen head over heels in love with you .

I stand alone at my watch ,
amugst the howling winds and seas,
that have raged against this land .
Curupt this anchor held fast ,
for no autumble tide shall keep this watch ,
or seagulls in search of prey ,
circle  ancient mariners lost out at sea .



she whispers “ come “ .
I can hear her amid the seagulls call and the crashing of the waves .              
Is there  no lantern for me to burn so she might rescue me ?

And the rain it falls like sharpened iceicles that whip against my face ,
doth it sting my eyes and bring manacles for me to embrace ?


Yet in days I have waited ,
and the years have gone by ,
do I now stand here alone without hope ,
or a final goodbye?

This ship I await brings only hope to this land ,
of truth my fair maiden ,
out of loyalty grand .
It shall bring peace to this nation if not joy to my heart .
And when it’s anchor hits water should my soul ever depart ?
shortly not for though this waiting brings only sorrow to my eye ,
she still holds up a lantern to my sight ,
as the days have gone by .


My feet are not steady ,
should I stumble and fall ,
and yet I grow weary ,
should the reaper ever call ?


If these waves that are before me should ,
Swollow me hole ,
then my heart on wings must fly out to her
carried on a sceptre of gold .




how the swallow sings so sweetly ,
they pass me by in numbers as my fire burns cold .
For I ...

(. * waves and seagulls. can be heard *)

“. My darling my love “
she cradles me against the seas
“;a kiss as I lay dying ,
her dress ,
abandoned to the seas ,
her  heart cries out ,
as I lay dying .

My flower ,
my little crumb has sailed this stormy sea ,
and now I’m sad to say ,
she has to bury me.

I’m, back ? I hope I’m back let’s see how it goes

The Suns dead  ,
our spring choked by frost and snow .
Saturday's sun brought with it flakes of white from heavens east wind to cast a white chill over England's fields of green .

Men pumped iron near
the gods in clouds the hour the first flakes fell from the sky's .
For England in all its pomp ,
It's men in white as more snow fell lost in battle again .
Their heads bowed low ,
as for the victor a green crown await .
Over seas to the east Putins nostrils from poison did come ,
Kremlin TV kicking down my door,
better to run than to hear the knock .
For when ice men comes no lock can hold .
England's steels another winters blast.
Black loss shalt cover your fields ,
Shepherds will  not even count their loss .
You will look for your morning in July only to frozen fields shall you
awake .
Pray take the winters chill and kiss this earth in sunshine again ,
that the migrating wheatear and sand Martin plight as insects dead by winters bite .
The Ravens nest now covered in white ,
Cometh the second ice age to plague this land as we wait for summer to come ,
We wait for the Ravens eggs to hatch only then summer might call .

Don’t. call me a poet for my words have yet to form .
Don’t you call me a friend for my friendships art like the weather .
Don’t call me kind as my kindness knows you best ,for  the love in you’re eyes knows no rest .

For you’re thoughts are my ruin gin palaces of a decedent death .
My ruin ?
My ruin is to see you’re tears falling like rain drops ,
like thunder clouds in June .

Don’t call me you’re lover for our love cries out in the night ,
a cold venear of beauty and grace,
where darkness finds no light .

Yet here we stand alone ,
together in June .

Oh Lincoln is flooded with you’re tears ,
and I’m put out by you’re fears .

Ballasts. have swept by you in open seas ,
Men held to you’re riggin ,
have been brought to their knees .


And when you said I love you I mounted my horse and
Galloped away .
Call me what you might ,
a King a prince a fool ,
but to love you forever knows no bounds ,
no words ,
no rules .

A Question then my beloved friend to when does one first pretend
that defeat is the only answer ,
and to what cost to learned brow defend ?

Now and how it comes at such a cost ,
how daunting to the soul of man to be Victorius in all we say ,
think and do .

What is Victory then I ask ?
A final push over English lines to the sound of Bread of Heavens
heavenly rhymes ?
To look on high to an Eagles cry and wonder why your eating bird seed and you can't fly and cluck cluck s the coolest song in town ?

Or some Medievil battle cry ' all must die ' waving sword on high blood and honor to the King ?

". Oh God is it possible " swooned into Herashios loving arm
In Mertons meadows after two years all at sea ,
Oh God is it possible " Lady Hamiltons cry in Victory of the Nile
did fling herself in Napels harbour .
Then Rule Britania the band played on ,
to Trafalgars cruel fate .



Or is it one more pull ,
One last rep ,
One more curl until fibres spent ?

One piece of cake without the guilt to share on Bulimic bums and minds .

One step from hospital bed ,
to lift a finger ,
to give flight from your last dying breath .

To smile take heart at scolding tongue ?





Never to reach for that bottle when all you need is a drink ,
to pour it down the sink .
To never reach for a needle , a vain , ?
For in a soldiers might his bedside call ,
With book of love and head bowed low awaits his masters call .

O rise in me this font of love ,
that I should dwell with thee above ,
that in his name my dwelling place ,
to find his kindness and his grace.

Never to wander or pick a fruit thou asked me not such ill repute .
So I be tempted but by nought ,
or face the Roth such bitter a thought .

O Lord who helpest from above ,
find all in me nothing but love .
Quench the serpents deceitful hand ,
the ace of spades ,
the jack of clubs .

The hood that masks his evil eye ,
that sayes all must perish ,
all must die !

That love is just a falling card ,
with hate on the other side ,
falls fast .
And where it lands our future holds .
All of Satan’s lies .

Hush be still my beating heart ,
for the one I love is home ,
She keeps within her breast a fruit for me picked from a tree ,
it was meant to be ,
fruit from my lovers heart .

A fire is lit ,
a most favourable chair ,do I sit .
My lover knees before me ,
her eyes look into mine ,
this fruit I see before me ,
Is either pure evil ,
or Devine. ?

Yet all this can wait I shall leave a knife by my plate ,
put breath to my candle ,
and find rest in her come to bed eyes .

If love is sweet and doth not decay ,
as your eyes turn to dew at the end of the day .


And the sweet lemon blossom is still in your hair
as the primrose in bloom ,
at appleberry fair . so perfect their apples all juicy and ripe ,
as you ruffle your feathers ,
as the wind catches the breeze ,
in the pure sunlight .

For as love conquers all it is all that I ask ,
for a bite of your apple at Appleberry fair .

Yet time is a dream and it won’t go away ,
as the soldiers march at the end of the day .

They came with their bayonnets  to bare and to hoist ,
to take you away at the sound of my voice.

And all I looked for in a girl so rare ,
was a taste of your apple ,
at Appleberry fair

blue flies and butterflies all dance unttill  they sing .
They  dance
around flowers and corpses ,                                                                ­   flies and kings.
One feeds in palaces gorges on beef deer and game ,
the other on corpses from great victories all in the kings name .

Yet the butterflies see all these things ,
the dead and the dying ,
the gold and silver of kings .
And think nothing of either flying and fluttering on beautiful wings .

The man who has nothing left to beg for food in the street ,
the philosopher at a coffee shop who eats and eats and eats .

Yet the butterfly and the blue flies both feast on each one ,
What ever man has left over ,
Is what man has become .

For all his wealth and power ,
his riches and his fame .
His ever constant struggle
to feed his starving children
don’t go hungry in their shame .

And still the blue flies and butterflies feed off what we leave
Behind ,
Oblivious to our struggles ,
Oblivious to our wealth
they wear pin stripe suits ,
and-ball room gowns .
To every ball that’s swinging in town .
Under. blood red skies and battle grounds ,
too feed off all the rotting flesh ,
that man cut down

For As life goes on ,
we bleed ,
and
die .
and so
the insects
begin to dance
and sing ,
And fly .

I know when it’s time to write ,
for when the starlings murumting rise and fall ,
and rise ,
then fall ,
then fall ,
and fall ,
their light skeletons frail ,
In many numbers they never found their wings ,
found dead upon the gravel.
So the bird who has no shame swooped for his prey all the same ,
for down down did it lay ,
then up to a blue yonder .

As for us the sun will rise as we fly to bluer skies than sapplings wither and more will die ,
as we as birds must rise and fall ,
then rise ,
and find Gods rest as we retreat from the worlds thistle and worm.

So as the rabbit must flee from his Michelin chef ,
so must we from his rabbit stew ,
and burrow our way to pastures new ,
to a greener yonder .

I had fallen for you ,
but you’re demons got in the way ,
I gave my heart to you ,
but somehow you passed it on by .

So the swollows sang like nightingales in the summer of our love ,
and every eye watched in wonderment from Gods heavens above . .

Then the demons took a sinister look ,
to cast a spell that left a ****** hook .
For feelings danced for a little while ,
and brought to me such a happy a smile .

It was as if a fish hook flew from out of the demons eye  to scewer you as time went by .
You’re heart ran as if I had said ,
I love you let’s make love instead !

And I’m sorry our friendship found such a bitter end,
and the nightingales began to sing so sweetly
and the cockroaches took up their song ,
but that didn’t last very long .

So the flies tried to sing along ,
but their song failed to hit a happy tune .
The rats didn’t want to sing ,
for they couldn’t think of a dafter thing .
And yes I’m sorry it came to this bitter end .

But at least the ghosts came out to play ,
and their songs won’t go away ,
and it’s their songs I sing to this day ,
Ghost love songs of you .

Hummm,
Hummm,
from your,re sleep if you awake to the sound of rota blades above quiet Ashfords streets .
Oh but you always do ,
and the covers on you’re bed can’t hide .
One thirty every night ,
dead on time ,
yes every night ,
Hummmm,
Hummmm,
then our serenity returns ,
not for five minutes lay ,
Hummm,
Hummm,
This time with rota blades and fog horns ,
“ keep you’re hands held at bay “
You are surrounded walk into the light “
Every night we walk ,
With our children ,
all that lay in the house of abandon
to the light we walk.
On broad shoulders carried our selfish acts ,
Loneliness ,
hatred ,
Pity ,
and plague .

Like Gentlemen and ladies awaiting high teas ,
On luxury Titanic liners with sunset kisses before bed ,
Calm  chilling  rocks await .


funerals pyre ,
Hell opens it’s. gates  where fire and pride burn ,
and music and dance and violins sing .





And those blues and twos that wake you at night ,
from inconsistent blues and light ,
the blackbirds song must wake its dawn chorus break ,
Or back to slumber you must keep ,
Only watch for the Robin it’s perch on concrete cross in darkest night  , sleep tight .

O boundless love  that has no framework  of time ,
who’s love has no boundaries.
Who in cloudless skies floats

then
falls
and. then  rises
and drifts  for miles
where heavenly dew drops fall ,
and are lifted up just as the sun is about to rise ,
then fall ,
and rise .
And  in doing so rest
upon garlands of radiant flowers ,
far beneath

that reach up to the sky’s like heavenly towers ,
before our eyes.

Then I felt no sky or earth sea or land ,
far above me ,
or down below .
yet I could see for miles ,
yet no mountains or streams lay before my eyes

or above ,
or below .
to fall or rise ,
and rise and fall ,
and flow,
Just the warm basking love in her beautiful  eyes .
And as i looked up
and saw
the murmering of trees catching  the wind .

And so we ate pork and ham and cheese ,
and Mrs Beetons sweet puffed pastry treats ,
until there was nothing left to eat .
before butterflies and daisies ,
wild dandelions and bees.




And somewhere in the distance a castle awaits ,
with its towers moats turrets and gates .
And we ran up that hill
so fast we could fly ,
to look down where others had failed ,
and suffered from boiling  oils and being impaled
Then we sprouted wings as if to fly like Agemeneons in the sky
far above those moats and castle keeps ,
far above way up high ,
to set candles alight in the skies