A silent white rose so enter the daffodils of spring ,
a single white rose O to be in love again .

First love on a train,
will I ever see you again ?
The whistle blows the train pulls out ,
she’s left the train I’m outa luck !

And there she is just like a dream ,
the ******* the train so enters the first scene .

Of boy and girl “ can I have this first dance “
for nothing else is left to chance .

Daffodils in spring ,
a single white rose ,
all because I saw her on a train ,
when the doors were  all closed .

Where the poison ivy grows ,
Inside the castles keep ,
where knights once fought ,
and maidens still weep .
It’s where the cows and the bulls now chew at its cud ,
and where weeds grow where i once made love .

It’s Where My Amices. sweet sorrows. abides ,
as Poison ivy grows where once her sweet waters flowed ,
Into the apple of her eye .

And so she will remember the day of my death ,
with a lock of my hair ,
and the memory of my breath .
a scarlet ribbon tied to her hair ,
to remind her of me ,
when I wasn’t there .

For this knight through unto battle he went ,
to face the Kings foe in the battle of Lament .

And even though a thousand would die by his side ,
it still wasn’t enough for her heart to reside .

And yes my battle was long and hard ,
and she just wept ,
when the swords and the arrows flew,
down upon my shield ,
yet mortal wounds they
they bled ,
and died ,
Just so she could be with me by my side .

But my quest for her heart as a true friend ,
was to end in sorrow ,
again and again .

And yes there were other truer knights that courted her hand ,
and I would die with my mace and a purple flower in my hands .

Though chivelry waits in my castle on high locked away ,
With dragons by her side .
Alas when my day is done ,
the black Knight will take away ,
The prize he hath won .

And with all the finest ribbons she could have bought in the fair ,
none should  be as dainty ,
none would be as rare ,
as the ribbon she held ,
when I lost her love ,
let it be said ,
in the battle of Lament ,
I fought valliently for ,
my love .
And so the sun will set ,
and let it never rise again ,
for darkness hath brazen ,
a nobeler friend .
and so here must it end
In sweetest sorrow ,
again and again ,
the purple flower fades
it’s memories are of no tomorrows ,
for in sweetest sorrow must end .
Good bye my friend .***

Why are you sad ?
as if time could not travel so I can only see your beauty from afar ?
If time could but hold one moment that's mine ?
We could have danced in supermarket isles ,
walked along Londons streets all paved in gold ,
taken a glimpse of the light as the nights get cold .
Watched Big Ben chime as carts rattled by ,
and the gass lights being lit in the twinkling of your eye .
For the trees have now withered. and the leaves have all gone ,
as the day time comes easy with a bird and her song .
What of you looking so rejected and blue ?
Could a smile on my face ever bother you ?
You could be my King of Queens  ,
We could have laughed until we cried ,
Love could have been our haven without any secrets and lies
,let us.  walk hand in hand listening to sea gulls as the the waves crash into the sand .
Eat fish and chips out of brown paper bags ,
and walk home with our feet in the sand .

There is a gravestone of black marble and gold, now overgrown by brambles and briers so  I am  told ,
near a willow tree that lends it's branches ,
to my ear ,
to remember those , like I , who have been buried here.                                


For there is a tree with a lock and a key ,
enshrined within its bark
For that was my intended who once I saw upon my  bended knee , for it was  she who I saw , who  sat upon that tree ,
thinking only  of me
just so she could see , a reflection of me .
Yet all I could see was a lock and a key ,
embalmed in a tree ,
and a ring that was lost
inside  a faceless clock,  which one day the hours could not mend ,
for it was taken by crows , or it could have been ravens I suppose ?                                 , Who took away its hands,

to mend , in tall trees in  workshops  far away ,
where young lovers dreams are never
what they seemed
Well thats what I think the bird said.
as they carried away its numbers
and hands to mend ,


dropping them off ,
to be found in a box ,
for loved ones
to find ,
when ever they draw near ,
where the black roses and lillies ,
like soft snow flakes ,
appear.


And there is a fire place with a warm smiling face ,
that gives me a hug
with hot milk ,and a mug .
and a whistling kettle on a stove .
And if you should call
for a natter or some warm toast and butter ,
let yourself in as the key has been lost ,
in the lock of the clock ,
before there came a calling of crows ,
or it could have been ravens I suppose?



And so Weeply Deeply,  now  close your eyes and count to three,
and recite a line
and say it to me ,

go on your  toes and reach up to the skies
for a book only you can find on high .
Look for  a leaf to leave on a  page ,
that hasn't withered with age
and lose it
In a secret place ,

In the words of a rhyme ,you
can never find
or ever want to replace
In words you can never retrace .

And then one day ,
a raven or crow ,
will call at your door ,
someday
and leave outside a lock and a ring
and no one will ever know
why or what for ? .

On this  bed I lay ,
as my loved ones weep ,
I wait for what use is my body now for ,
God has my very soul .

Two doors await ,
one where Ivy creeps ,
and no handel can be found ,
the other warm and inviting and bells to charm the sound .

Yet here am I stripped of my soul ,
awaiting a body ,
or so I am told .

My soul wrenched as if it were Gods will ,
that I should wait in judgement as the sun burns still .

and the. Skies turn purple and yellow and gold ,
and slips silently beyond the earth or,
so I am told .

There are no fluffy clouds for me ,
no mystery of cosmic space ,
lost in reality ,

this is life ,
and death ensue ,
heaven and hell ,
the preacher stands ,
the fallen truth of modern man.

Earthly shadows wait  ,
for at last this world with all its jazz ,
falls silent as only it can ,
and God who sees the mortal soul stands before us one and all .

O the one they mock you say ,
In fairy stories on children’s knees ,
has a key ,
to all those who believe.

For that son now in glory found ,
with gates to heaven abound ,
and all that’s left is without Christ ,
no hope ,
or love ,
or sacrifice.

There was no love in their eyes ,
no hope for mans .
Curdled in death ,
there is nowhere for mankind to begin.

No love or kindly thoughts ,
no sacrament for sin ,
not even a burnt offering so we could begin .

And we would all  if our eyes blinded by the snow ,
the peasant found nowhere to go ,
The thief who starving and cold stole a carcus of beef for his wife ,
yet  did not find sanctuary from the church in broad day light .

So we work to pay our debtors for what we have built ,
and drink ,
and drink ,
and drink .
To fill our nights with  rude drunken songs ,
and tell ourselves that’s where we belong .
For if man is evil than God is love ,
for he doth not look on man from above ,
and pity our souls before opening the bin ,
but sent Christ Jesus ,
as a babe just so we could begin.

He pulls a Cadaver behind him on a cart
full of bones
with only a lantern to guide him                                                             as as Shame and sorrow are holding pitch forks and ropes .
On dark  cobbold streets made of stone ,
his dark arts of brutality and bone .

But For this love he would give the heart of this man ,
who once walked these streets with purse strings in hand ,
For now his bones are all accounted for in the price they might fetch .
Each counted seperatly and left on a shelf .

A for a few shillings more and  a great deal of wealth ,
A crypt for the dying
a statue of stone,
for their wealth .



Four Silver bells he would ring ,
just before tea
as their servants made room for his lady and me .
and placed before us a banquet of meat ,
that no one was ever  quite sure ,
Where it was from ,
but  was always a treat .

And every night the clock struck ten ,
With sorrow and shame ,
he would leave again ,
with Four silver bells this time ,
just to make sure
to leave one inside ,
for the rich and the poor .
For every corpse has his bride
and if she dos’nt ring ,
a ting a ling ling ,
he will be out digging once more ,
that is for sure .

If love could fly on silver wings ,
pull fluffy hearts on silver strings

And no dark black clouds could shooo them away ,
and we could live on marshmallow hills ,
sprout silver wings ,
and fly away .

But there is a cold bitter wind in September ,
and the green turns to yellow in the trees ,
for that is when the harvester comes ,
to blow away the leaves .

And you and I won’t matter ,
at least that is what you said ,
but There is a cold wind in September ,
and  it’s freezing in our bed .

Only the Angels stole our wings
from us when we
we’re flying high ,
and those marshmallow hills now seem far away in the sky .
and our silver strings got caught up in our Mandalay ,
and now we have been   left  , strung up    in  the   clouds .

Now here we are ,
all caught up in strings ,
with fluffy hearts ,
and   no diamond rings ,
waiting for the stars to shine ,
Suspended in love ,
forgotten  in time .

Dear Theodore ,
                    You have looked better
when you were not dead ,
for this candleabra I have set before you
holds you in your  best light it is said .
For there is a hollow sockets  where your eyes used to be ,
that once shone like stars when you first danced  with me ,
that once shone into eternity.
Your olive eyes blazed  like gold medallions
drifting out to sea,
whenever I walked by ,
now seem so hollow and empty
like there are no longer any stars in the sky .
A deep.orange glow from the fire that burns like brimstone reflects  upon  your bone  ,
how I wish you could  still feel it ,
whenever were alone.? .
As  a silhouette reaches out like my  hand
upon your face .
So. let me my love plant  these  white roses
in the eternal eye sockets I once called your face .
so you might at last see eternity,
again when we look into each others eyes.
And your teeth like jewels  shall at last be my prize ,
as the new  moon looks down,
shall I not administer a love
Potion that was once given to me,
by a lady I once  saw at dusk by the sea ?
And your moustache that once ticked
my cheeks ,
that made the  looking glass so  jealous,it started to curse my my every whim,
whenever  your moustache          needed a trim.Sadly now  my wax burns low ,
my candleabra I must blow ,
lest the fire keep a constant glow
or I must bid you a fond goodnight ?
For the light from the flame
now holds a certain distain.
So here's to you Theodore ,
we shall meet again  once more and  the new moon  will arise  to adore ,
through a  hole in the wall,
where the tower and turrets once looked so tall .
So  we might at last dance again the pavane,
in the merriment of the halls of the vile and obscene .

The poets dream
Is to gaze in wonderment at fields unseen
and to be inspired by what he has seen,
in every rain drop ,
and tear that departs ,
inspired by a falling heart.
In every rock that blocks our way,
to more happier and forfilling days
to become more jagged and rough then we were before ,
yet pure .

And as that field of green grows white with snow and with every starry night ,
that violates nature’s vibrant glow
that one day soon
It might. Become ripened by the rains and sun
blossom and become fruitful
again. as one.

You must leave ,
before the evenings twilight fades ,
before the nutrons and elements of the suns eternal rays, collapse and return to where they once came .
Before the housemartins perch on roof tops to tall to climb ,.
and yonder mill can't be seen or won!
And all that can be seen is seen,
and all that can be done is done .
Untill every blackbird that sings upon the village green ,
and every slug and worm ,
that Burroughs in-between ,
might feel the chill of the mornings dew ,
and the warmth of the rising sun anew .
Then go before the snakes coiled spring
moves swiftly to its prey ,
hastening it's sirens to every whim
that wells up throughout the day .
For the adder and the cobra strike with vile intent ,
and sin when it's coil is sprung brings a poison that dulls the soul
if left without being pruned or sheered .
For bile left when fully grown,
brings only death and foolish jeers .
For the grave has no use for pansies and fox gloves ,
no need for romantic thoughts of love .
Just a stone to remember who has been,
and a cross to bear in redeeming love .

One evening when the lights were still
bright  and shiney bawballs that dangled
and  had once clung on for dear life,
now started to fall .
one by one  .
then the elphs and the nymphs  !   ,
one and all .
they knew the end had begun. .
The pixies fled to the four corners of the wood  ,
along with the fairys who were upto no good !
For even the angel who sat on the tree
saw from far away what was to be ,
the creeping darkness on this twelth night opened its mouth to swollow
them whole !

so The Angel spread her wings of light
and devised a plan for only one could
be queen of this land .


And so the night put up a fight
as the harpie stole souls that were
not hers by right ,

before she was vanquest by  her hand
and sent back to never never land
and when the centaur and spinx
had fled the kind angel said
whos next ?
And so the clown that slumped against a tree just laughted and laughed,
then when his head fell off
he laughted even more ,
even though his head was on the floor .
Then when his arms fell off he laughted some more .
Untill his insides split and everything ended
up on the floor .,
and so he laughted some more .
So mother said put your toys away that tree has to come down today .

If  I could  see you just once more time ,
without you’re  name in stone ,
or marble images all in white .
Without the hosts of the starry nights ,
a pilgrims life times work,
written under moonlight night ,
In a time we could call own own .

Then If roses bloom to no avail ,
then weep and wilt because you’re blossoms fail ,                                      then  I should employ  a thousand minstrels to dance and sing .
then  they will be enough to raise you from your sleep
, for evermore ?

So cold you lay ,
so peaceful now ,
Yet my rose shall wilt and die .

Then so beit  
If my fingers blessed they  bleed against your stone ,
under your blood red sky .
For at least it will be a reminder that I am not alone.
Then you ****** my blood into your mouth ,
my hair you gently caressed
as ours eyes met
as red as the sky’s dying light ,
under your naked breast .
As red as the rose I once gave to you it
shall bloom again once more .


And as I turned to walk away ,
i heard your voice again ,
“ Come quick whilst the skies are still red ,
come quick and don’t delay “
come and make these rose petals for our bed ,
for this night let it be said
will be forever and a day “

‘ And yes my roses are still red ,
and every night they bloom ,
a stone cold carcus for a bed ,
where  thistle and **** grow undisturbed around
her white marble statue ,
underneath where rose petals lay ,
can still be visible to this day .

This winter came without due care ,
and said to Autumn " now I am here
spread your wings youre work is done  , for now I must seek out the sun ,
I must blow iceicles upon his breath ,
arrange the heavens  until cold winds
are all you feel .
My cold winds will reshape you're skies  ,
deceive your eyes into believing sunny skies .
For what Autumn has started I will end .
Strip leaves from their trees ,
snap the branch until it won't bend ,
leave the finch without a home ,
disturb the field mouse all curled up
for spring  ."

So man gathered his wood ,
and built a fire ,
his green house gassess lifted higher ,
then chimneys to burn his coal ,
factory's steel mills and iron ore .
Man manufactured cars of petroleum,
then shaked his fist at winter and said
"  can I build any higher " ?

So winter frowned and breathed its last his frozen nights were now a
thing of the past  ,
for man was happy with his warm
January nights
held parties that went into the night  ,
filled with plastic dust lifted high
into the night .

And so the earth warmed as floods ***** his lands ,
and children turned over bins the
only way they can .
Their mothers and Fathers threw cans
from vans as they didnt give a dam ,
and the green house gasses filled
the earth again .

epilogue
A boy kicked a can of Coke   ,
to the feet of an elderly lady with a
grinless smile  ,
who played an ***** grinder for a shilling and a joke  ,
played rock n rolling Christmas until
they all went up in smoke !

“ Oh sun “ said the. Moon “ who’s radiant beam is thy crown ,
surrounded by mountains and hills all around .
In daylight the flowers yearn for your rays ,
by night they are shrouded only by days.”

As the moon looked down on the earth
Just waiting to shine ,
all alone in the darkness abiding his time .


“Oh moon “ said the sun
“You are shrouded by day ,
but sometimes in the morning
I can still catch a glimpse of you’re rays “

“ What a tease you are said the moon to the sun ,
for when my night time is over ,
you’re day has begun.

But one day we will eclipse with each other ,
and turn their world into night ,
and there will be no more sunshine or what they call light .
and we will give the earthlings a terrible fright .”


By these words when the sun drew too close ,
when they were talking to their heavenly hosts .

But the sun soon realised there was nothing special about her friend
for the sunlight she gave him soon came to an end .
And so ,
the sun became sad
When moon turned away ,
for the only time the moon could be happy
Was when he reflected her gaze .

Then in one glorious moment they became one ,
The sun with the moon ,
The moon with the sun ,
and we on earth gazed up first in wonderment, and then in fear .
For we realised for the first time .
something terrible was about to happen down here .

I returned home from work one day ,
went to bed and here I lay ,
in my own room without a friend ,
to say good night ,
when will it ever end ?
And so to the bad ,
the great and the good ,

the whispering of the years ,
the misunderstood .
For the black bird still sings it’s merry tunes before dawn,
as i lie alone in my bed ,
thankful for all the years ..
They captivate me still ,
the snow drop yet to bud ,
the red ant who keeps a home for the stomaphis beneath the bark of an old oak tree ,
as my saviour keeps a place for me .
No woman have I held dear ,
her gentle touch when death is near ,
no whispers in my ear .

But I have seen luminous lights light up the beach as if it were day ,
and monsters of iron ,
giving out their steam ,
acuducts and tunnels built by mans own dream ,
Yet I have lived and has it not been grand ?

Still pity the man who has no hope ,
nothing to cling to when life becomes a joke ,
Who works and dies to what a cost ,
he has never seen Gods promises ,
and it is in them do I have my hope ..

There was a dolls house down my lane ,,
where dolls were mended and restored  just the same ,
as when I looked in wonder through a door ,
with all the other children who had gone before .

Now my broken Belinda had many faults ,
she didn’t scream ,
and she didn’t shout ,
and when I wound her up ,
She didn’t move ,
or play hopscotch with my other toys .
She just sat at the end of my room looking quite upset ,
and sometimes very annoyed .

But dr Archibald was very kind ,

he restored  my doll at no expense .
He wound her up ,
and she began to speak out loud ,
to play hopscotch with the bears and the other crowd ,
who couldn’t talk ,
Or move ,
or shout .

And poor Belinda soon was all alone ,
with no one to talk to ,
She sat by herself at the foot of the stairs ,
where all the other toys poked and stared .

Untill one day a charming ted ,
with buttons as bright as his shiny new vest ,
Who was charmed by her “ I’m Belinda ha ha ha “ s
and they sped away in his flashy new car ,
around and around my bedroom they went .
Untill one day they were sent underneath the stairs ,
into a room I never went .
Alone in th3 darkness ,
they are to this day ,
dreaming of the days ,
when they both sped away .

I’m in on my I pad ,
What a Glorious day ,
Thanks to h p tech ,
My plea wasn’t in vain .
Today is a happy day .

I might be dead tomorrow
Then where would we be ?
Would  you
still
dance a tango ,
in Paris
under a full moon with me ?
Or would you watch from afar
Still
clutching the wet bedsheets
Where my stiff corpse once lay ,
soaked with you’re tears somewhere far away ?
For I am in love with you ,
where ever you are .

And if by the morning sun rising should be shot down by a star ,
Beit near  beit far ,
I will still be in  you’re loving arms where ever you are .

And if that same moon should rise again
beit the half shadow sunlight that. somewhere lies half hidden in you’re eyes ,
then a waltz we shall dance
Untill the fog has parted ,
or the roses
are red ,
and a warm comforting sunlight
arises from our bed .

And so the Angels played their trumpet sounds ,
and Glory reigned all around ,
That Jesus Christ the one they slayed ,
has now risen from the grave .

And so an Angel post ,
on where death could not boast ,
a cross of wood could not hold ,
or a spear of water and blood ,
betell   our risen King.

So  the women came with ointments and balm ,
were left speechless for their loss ,
an Angel tells them at what cost,
“ why seek out the living amugst the dead.
That Jesus Christ has risen .

From such madness then should I appear ,
bound in sorrows darkest fear ,
that in my judgment I brought forth thy name ,
forever to be held in chains .
To cast thy shadows from my pen ,
that I should never subscribe again
Fortunes of a lesser god that idolatry breeds
In pits of blood .
That man might in fists of rage
Beat his head ceaselessly against a cage
as flies in mortal days are spent
above the excrement man has left ,
that man might forever be ,
Spent bound in sins dark adultery.

It was a cold crisp morning when the fog had hardly enough time to lift ,
the seagulls each one first circling around empty egg shells ,
and discarded food the dust carts had left .

Then many more came a
Circling from far off land I had never seen  before ,
untill all I could see were wings of white all   flapping ,
like some kind of maddening on the floor .



And so The trees were stripped , their branches naked found their
gaiety in the winds
for no birds would find their nests ,
in spring.
their eggs flung out and crushed or stolen by children ,
with eager eyes yet somehow  lost along the way ,
then sold for half a crown ,
to the costermonger down the lane .
with  no time to breed ,
just die ,
and lie forgotten , dead upon the ground .





So life grows cold upon this land ,
it’s secrets may not tell ,
as empty shells discarded once ,
brought a new born babies  yell  .
And Mary sung in a land far far away ,
a small child at last  should bring some joy ,
as what the Angels say ,
In Christ a new born King will be born
and In a stable
  lay .

It was a cold crisp morning as many a seagulls sung ,
as if the world was at last waiting for ,
It’s new born
Son .

I found the birds circling above an ancient stone ,
as the skies were gettin darker ,
their. clouds  once blue now crimson and black in colour .

Alas  the birds didn’t make a sound ,
they didn’t swoop down ,or croak , or . Caw  !                                          Yet I was transfixed by what I saw ,
and so  my bones were broken  without number .
I fell unto the ground ,
and I prayed to God if I should should not see out this day ,
at least if they be scattered to the four corners of the earth
Should they ever be found ? .

That beast or man might not find them ,
or dig them up from the ground ,
or birds of prey scavage or use them for nests ,
then fly away .





Then I saw four creatures circling above the earth ,
with the moon and the sun,
along with billions of stars all rolled into one .,


Twas Then I saw a stone which had stood before man could even count ,
and so I began to wunder,
what it was all about ?
no clue to where  it came from ,
but burrowed in its heart ,
a name ...
A name from before even time began ,
before the earth could speak

A timeless treasure that always stood before the world began .

So then I returned to my body as my spirit had not yet given up my
Fight  to live ,
to ponder on what I had seen ,
a darkness far greater yet ,
more darker than  my eyes had ever met .

But darkness in all its brooding forms. Could  never cast its spell ,
and that which stood before me was on its way to hell .


And so I found the four compasses of the earth ,
and anchored them in  seas unchartered depths
so I tried to navigate before the sun the moon and the stars .

But God who’s good shepherd would never lead me astray ,
In open seas he brought me back from where I lay .

with thirty pieces of silver ,
and a cross of Roman wood ,
‘‘twas before a brightest light ,
that shone without darkness ,
a name which is Christ the Lord ,
is so often misunderstood.
In stone it now stands before me ,
where beneath no grave can lay ,
a corner stone of heaven that won’t ever see decay .

This night ,
Pray the sun will not rise ,
for it will  Scorch the skies ,
For when it does you must board up the shutters tight
so there will be no light.,
In thy house this night .

Pray and watch you’re corn in the field ,
so it does not burn.
Pray the wind will be stilled ,
so not to spread so it will yeald .

For the sun ?
For  the sun let it not burn the corn that ,
by Gods good hand feeds this land ..
Next year the rains.may **** the seeds what harvest crown ,
or blight the lands of crop we need ,
to grind the flour to maketh our bread .

And God in his judgement punish all
lest we forgive our sins in the parish hall .
So pray this night the flies eggs don’t hatch ,
they brought the rats that killed the cat ,
that attracts the flies
to the water pump ,
that brought disease and death .

So the sun rose the following day ,
there were no clouds ,
and by midday ,
it hung like a god in the stars .,

Then by the evening sun ,
dark clouds had begun ,
rolling thunder across the meadow,
and the rain splutters and drowns like sins mortal crown,.
rots the ground ,
their seeds lost forever .

I once saw a bird of paradise. that was  as wild as the sea ,
spreading out
her wings towards you and me .
Oceans as wild as an eagle who kills ,
who Stole all her eggs
and took all of her things .


Yet her heart is as wild as the seas she adores ,
Like  spring has its time before the courts of the Lord .
So delicate and fragile ,
sometimes as rugged as the sea ,
yet always patient,
and kind as can be .

And if love can bear all. these  things ,
like losing a Son ,
to bury a red rose ,
before the rain and the sun ,
and then
To nourish that soil with the bones of the dead ,
So that red rose might blossom and grow in its bed .

Then let death have its glory ,
It’s herses and horses ,
Flowers and wreaths ,
as man is laid to rest ,by the
words of a priest .  

So then let God be our judge,
Our attorney ,our friend
as five stones are enough
to lay to rest the thoughts in our heads .
and all the things that we have said .
Beit Our words and our deeds ,
Our friends we betrayed,
all will be seasoned with herbs ,
and the leaves ,
and what is left will be gathered into one ,
and burnt under the sun .

And love in the end beit a stone or a cross ,
a flower will grow out from its weeds ,
to remember the lost .

A spider now hangs from my wall ,
it bears no malice to me at all .
And if I were to ask if why it was here ?
It would simply reply ,
“:I’m just hanging there “:

But what about that web .? Said i ,
The spider didn’t have a reply .

But later on I spoke to a fly who was watching me eat my lunch ,
from the corner of his eye .

Now i was afraid to ask ,
for nothing seems to ever last .
So I asked the window with the creaky catch ,
was the spider that crawled inside have a ***** look ?.
or was the fly just passing by ?

So when the fly had stopped buzzing about ,
It ate my lunch

and spat it out ,
Then it It turned its attention to the spider on my wall ,
“ won’t you come to my web and we will have a ball ?
“ it said .
which was unusual to say the least for spiders can’t speak ,
or at least that’s what I used to think ?

But then I saw  a startling sight ,
that love really is bite at first sight !

I once saw a lady at Egham station,
she looked at me without turning back ,
I didn't ask for her hand ,
nor a crumb from her basket of bread .
For her eyes were like dew drops falling ,
yet in her eyes she saw not love ,
for the smoke of the train was bellowing
Whistling romantic thoughts of love .
To far away places it drew her ,
to far away places unseen ,
to castles and their crusades they called her ,
with their lances and seronades ,
and their far away dreams.
Should chivalry and valleys and valour ,
chastise her in her lovers gas filled Ford
Model T
Far away from the final rapture,
should love then wait for me ,,?
Forever ?
Or never,
or to go here after with a lance and a shield ,
and with the sweet fragrance of flowers
from the lovely Daisy Dee.
And the men with their dubious pleasures
with their new fangled top of the range Ford model Ts .
Alas my fantasies soon faded with the smoke and the calling of the guard,
for many soon had gathered to help this delightful woman embark .
And so I was left standing
alone on the platform,
With billowing smoke reaching up to the skies ,
bereft of any last good byes .
For the steaming demon had captured her
In the blink of the devil's eye .
Her hair blew with abandon ,
her eyes had turned a smoky red .
Her bonnet was tossed to the hills ,
along with the flowers a stranger had sent .

For his bones God made out of silver ,
for his bones God made out of gold ,
but in these most beautiful treasures
There was nothing he could hold .

So he sort out the bones of the dead .

But these bones were made of marrow ,
so he left them on a shelf ,
and bartered for their silver ,
and stole for their wealth ,
and kept some for his sorrow .

But all he really wanted ,
was a woman he could hold.
for a heart that was as pure
as the love he could not
hold

So he died with tears falling
for a love he could not keep ,
so many tears falling ,
he could count them in his
Sleep .

sadly this is a grim tale of old ,
I am unable to log in from my I pad
( error 522
dare my poems grow cold .
By these means thus i write thee,
from a twinkling of my eye  ,
no alas it is from my mobile ,
as the months go on slowly by .

So hp I beseech thee bring back
my harp of gold  ,
give access to my I pad ,
alas the traveller should be locked,
forever in this mobile  ,
the land which time forgot.

Love is like  a flake of snow that falls gently  from the skies ,
and dissapears before you’r  very  eyes .
For it was never meant to last ,
like morning due on a blade of grass.

Yet How sweet the tulips song in spring that dances on a song birds wing ,
and disappears in the falling rains
from  where the black butterflies and Gobolix  came .

Where Deep in the forests there’s is  a bridge of dreams
Where everything isn’t always what it seems .

Where love is all ******* in a bow ,
with forever hearts,
and a lovin glow .
For It is a place you don’t want to go .

For when the  black butterflies clouds  the skies ,
for they will one day drain the colour from you’re eyes .
For Gobolix   have wings that fly
and Steal dreams from every sun lit sky ,
and from any lovers walking, by drawing shapes of hearts
in the sand .


For if you see one with flashing tail ,,
and searing eyes
as  the zephyr   start to howl and
and the winds start to wail ,
and the rains begin to spit venom as if
from a cage .

For one day  the due will pass ,
for it was never , meant to last .

But if it does  and you see no fear ,
then Hold fast to love ,
My dear ,
for then you will know the gobolix
Is forever near .

A darkened sun rose ,
that didn’t shine ,
I didn’t ask it to ,
It wasn’t mine.

For that would be a waste of time .
So untill summer shines under it’s bombastic skies ,
I shall live a life that isn’t mine ,
for even that would be a waste of time .

Come fallen skies ,
the ones who  lost ,
That  felt no love ,
and feel no loss ,
for to what great a cost ,
their souls they blindly gave
to thee .

To touch you now and feel no pain ,
no love at all ,
to bind or gain ,
or even to wait for the sun to rise in vain ,
so to spend my time in sunflower fields ,
that do not ripen ,
So To walk in corridors that are not mine ,
for even that would be a waste of time.

For  now I see the shifting  clouds ,
they move away they are not mine ,
for even they would harken for happier times ,
untill blue skies appear

And so to rest my tired eyes on hills far away from my battle cries ,
where  love and hope their pastures rise ,
and so to sleep and rest my case ,
the fall of man their human race ,
that life should be but twice the pace ,
that my dreams whenst I awake
should ever be fortold ?
A porpers tale  that i should take a crumb of bread from my masters plate

For my bones are tired , and the birds that once found their nests     
in my ribs  
have Taken to flight a long time ago .
And  so ,
now rats naw on my morbid friend ,
and nettle and daisy are my corpses new. guests
to reclaim what man once called his own ,
that man should be but skin and bone!



For grave lies cold it’s chambers bare ,
but alas I have a saviour who does not lie here ,
where decay and rotting flesh may not be found ,
somewhere with mansions built on holy ground .

Somewhere far away from this place for when my body with rigomortis lie ,
and underground catacombs their corpes still!
unmoved unbowed unto this earths decaying will .

And soon the ground in which I lay will be built apon
in brick and hay ,
and I shall be forgotten one sunny day ,
And aye I cast my cap to him a porper  bring a crown to honour
My heavenly King

I layed my doll beside her ,
a perfect replica of what she meant to me .
Then held her by my side for all the world to see .

For she was elegant  when she was with me ,
a turtle dove before the spring ,
and so with all her charms of innocence ,
I loved her before any living thing .

That none should walk besides me
when she took me to the fair ,
so she can lay besides me ,
and comfort me in prayer .
under soft floral blankets ,
we will sleep this very  night .
For even death with all its grandure ,
as she looked beyond its gaze ,
a doll made just for her ,
when she has passed through this realm of days .

And so love still let it conquer when all I have to hold ,
is a doll made out of wax with its O so pretty nose .

For if it be A coffin she might. Sleep this very night ,
but in my bed she now will lay ,
my doll  with the sweetest fragrances will never see decay .

And it shall be my comfort even though worms eat her body so ,
I will always have my sweet daisy besides me ,
where ever i go .

But so the years went by and I forgot about my friend ,
who sat in the corner for years without end .
Untill one day I made love to a woman I had met at the fair ,
for she was just like my Daisy  and had long flowing locks in her hair .

And so it moved  ,
to the foot of the bed ,
as we got ***** under those soft floral sheets ,
we once called our bed ,
and now all it does is stare at us ,
and won’t leave us alone .

So we buried sweet daisy ,
we smashed her with a hammer ,
we buried her in the garden ,
and left a cross upon her grave ,
now Every night we watch in silence ,
too terrified and afraid  
that Daisy my beloved should one day
rise up fron her grave.

Amy was flying high ,
she met her man in June ,
and fell in love ,
to a squadron leader ,
their nights were full of laughter ,
and drinking for ever after .
and she was so in love with him .
and him with her life was so enchanting.

A house with a garden together .
they planned to settle down ,
when the war was over a semi somewhere in some surburban  town .
With a garden and gate ,
when he says “ I won’t be home late ‘ .
where birds will sing some rag time tune ,
when we made love beneath a cherry tree one sunday afternoon.

So one night there was no call ,
not a word from him did she hear .
She reved her engine to see if she could see her lover was near ?

Looking down the airfield Amy noticed his spitfire wasn’t there ,
she feared the worst as she landed,
and ran to a phone booth and made her call there .
The call was cut short
Amy sunk to her knees ,
the phone dangled above her auburn hair .


Two lovers flying high on their honeymoon,
Flying past the white cliffs of Dover ,
on a sunny afternoon
Two spitfires tailgating together heading for the moon .

I gave you flowers ,
and you spat in my face ,
you cussed untill I could take it no more .
But still there was something that told me you still love me so .
For your hair was ruffled ,
and you had too much to drink ,
now what was I surposed to think ?

Now Would it bide me some time ,
with all its horses ,
Carrages and fine wine
Porcelaine figurerines in gardens so rare
If I offered these things for you to ****** my hair.                                    Roaring  fires when you return from the snow
So I could warm your dainty feet when ever they get cold .

All these things I would give unto you ,
for a moment of your time ,
and a kiss from me to you .
On your cheek if that’s alright by you ,
then on your lips if I could only unbridle you.

For the four winds of love to summon you ,
To bridle your passions on hot summer nights ,
To feel your warm touch of your delicate thighs.

For where the two lovers roam I shall take you there,
far away where nothing dies ,
no dreams of loves begotten by pride .

So if you said yes to these which I adore ,
then greet me with flowers when we meet down by the shore

“. Oh I will greet you with flowers ,
and let me bring the wine ,
I shall ****** your hair and have a good time ,
and when we have had too much to drink ,
we shall bid our farewells
with the gulls of the sea ,
will wash away what memories you ever had of me .

You my love while I were asleep appeared to me in a dream ,
You’re walls unbroken ,
unasailed ,
like it had been thousands of years ,
and those years lasted only one night .
If I were ever to open my eyes again you could disappear forever into my mind where only you and you alone ,
and that memory evaporate in a twinkling of you’re eye .
I could search for you then in the deep layers of my dreams ,
perhaps lift from you’re face a mask and not see it crumble to dust before my eyes ,
yet if one spec of   that. dust entered my eye I could I not live with it forever ?

Did I tell you the god of Prociden had watched over our demise and
the apple I chose you with was ridden with worms ?

If I were to gaze upon you in a hundred years from now you would
look the same as the day we first met.

On that day do you remember the note I left in you’re hand .?

You said nothing ,
but knocked sweetly on my door.  to.  Promenade , hand in hand to the water wells we roamed though an avenue of trees ,
you waved you’re fan at me for all the gentry to see ,
how you looked at me in the blossom of your eye never dimmed .

How the waves of the Dardanelles never drowned us ,
how the current raged against our love .

And there you stand walls breached under thousand years of wrong , our trust lies buried under Schliemann’s silt .
Yet  to me our love will always be as mysterious as the raging shores
of Troas ,
as if a gift of grain from a horse could ever rekindle our love ?

Before me lies what once was red ,
It's beauty before me lies a deeper shade ,
than the blood inside my veins .
For no flower could ever bloom where Icarus fled .

No Cole fires flicker their ember light ,
to where twilight might glow ,
or black kite steal into the night with fire light and my Cole
Of flickering flame .
Into a black Forrest gatoe so dense it needs no light .

Was it by grace or my sin this coal fire spread ?
How could I be more loved ?
Or what if like an earthling I stepped behind the curtain only to burn
In holy fire ?
What lies behind why are men scattered like ants so terrified like worms ?

If Daedalus was right and the sea and oceans with their monsters
Within should consume me ,
and I should fall with feathered wing to meet my fate ,
or get burnt by the sun ?

To one life raft I cling ,
Sprinkled blood ,
as white as snow ,
as pure as water ,
I kneel .
My rose I pick from frozen ground ,
a clap of thunder ,
a shuddering quake ,
a curtain torn in two .

How could my hands with red cells heal and fill my hands with warmth and blood again ?
How could i be even more cherished than this cherry on any iceing cake ?

.

Rain splattered the coffee shop windows,
the suns rays shone before the black dark clouds descended .
A hug ,
a final embrace ,
I wouldn’t ever more see her face ,
her smile when you knew things were bad but somehow didn’t matter .
The rainbow over St Matthews church ,
and sometimes sorrow knows ,
that Rainbows have no end ,
so our friendship can never end .

A young mother and her young daughter cuddled  together where they lay .
The  mother held her daughter tight ,
  Shivering on this perolus  night .
As the cabin lights went out ,
and sea water slowly ,
slowly moved above their mouths ,
then heads ,
they drowned .

Outside the clear skies hid not one star from their eyes ,
as Angels beckoned their souls this night ,
below whistles and the sound of oars paddling away ,
they looked down ,
onto souls that reached for the skies ,
Instead of their bodies drifting out to sea.
And so  with a mighty wrench as if the ship ,
was saying her final goodbye .
With  all its marble stair cases and fine dinning rooms ,
and the thousands left ,
like them would rise.

Caught in angels wings ,
not for them the Carpathia awaits ,
that is not their happy fate !

Two dolls tossed apon the waves ,
but that is all that could be seen ,
from what man said God could not sink,
lies vanished beneath the waves .

There was once a girl who climbed upon a hill,
and began to sing as if at will ,
to anyone who came along ,
to anyone who could hear her song .

And so I came to see a girl looking down upon me ,
and watched as she lifted her finger to her lips ,
that I become as silent as a bird ,
just in case the bird inside her heard .
And as she did she spilled the water from her jar ,
which came cascading down as far ,
so caveities would be formed in its wake ,
as rolling thunder and torrents quaked .
Pouring incesentley from above .
Then down from its jaws ,
I saw water seeping out of its pores ,
untill I took a sip from what had spilled ,
so I began to speak as if by her will,
bearing arms from my tongue,
came words I had not thought or sung .
And so the saddest song of love I came to sing ,
to end this poor girls suffering.
For trapped inside this poor child lived
the sweetest sonnets ever.,
Incased in bone cartridge and skin.

For when she was five she began to cry ,
all because her nan once said
" There be a blackbird singing inside your head "
And there it stayed for many a long day ,
and in twenty long years bore her grief ,
and many long tears .
Untill one day a prince came her way ,
Whistleling as he walked along ,
Whistleling untill he heard her song ,
Untill he touched her wet lips with a sigh ,.
And as he looked to see who she was,
she had fled ,
and all that could be heard was the singing
Of a bird ,
inside the princes head .

My  grave is where I dig each night ,
above me hangs one gas. fire light

But if love was ever meant to be ,
It wouldn’t be for the likes of you and me
and when i think of what i once owned ,
was nothing but a butterfly.

And if that butterfly had wings ,  in all my hopes ,
fears and dreams .

And if those dreams turned to flowers,
that wither and die ,
but still last for hours,
and as those hours pass ,
at the bottom of a
hour glass .

And if those hours turned into days ,
perhaps then that might save me from this grave ?

But days were never meant to last ,
and one day they will become a thing of the past .
And so in my digging I came across a fly ,

and that fly was trapped by a  web ,
and in that web a spider lay which was eaten by
a bird in May,
and the birds then flapped their tiny  wings
and got eaten by a cat who did naughty things ,
Who scratched the dog
who chased the cat that ran around and around
my neighbors flat .

And so it began as if for days ,
The never ending ceaseless din of praise .
that in this world nothing ever wins ,
and all must one day be taken up ,
beyond this grave ,
Or  get swollowed up,
by a giant whale
And so , as moths gather around a fire ,
and a  fisherman mends his nets ,
catching fish ,
only to save them from an open fire .

No more neck pain ,
Tooth ache ,
Stumuch ache ,
head ache ,
Heart ache ,
Pain ache ,
Brain ache ,
Cramps ,
Colds ,
Sinus ,
Sorenes,
Norsia ,
Nostrils ,
Tonsils ,
Tinnitus ,
Asthma
Feelings ,
hope  ,
and when hope has gone ,
So has longing , and love ,
and our hearts grow like cold in quick setting cement ,
Now that’s dead !

I have left a love note for you found in a book bound in blue
Found in pages torn and brown ,
left on a shelf just for you .

And if you find the words I wrote ,
cant hold back the tears ,
as you begin to choke .
as you begin to wipe a tear from you’re eye .

And if you find my words   ,lost in a moment ,
trapped in time ,
all  bound in blue ,
all neatly ******* in a package just for you .

A love token of my deepest regret ,
of how we did not kiss when we first met .

But now my words have long since passed ,
and I thought I would write them down ,
just by chance .
That you might one day pick up in a book ,
that I wrote in corn flower blue ,
a note in the back ,

that it one day might remind me of
You .To my forever darling
Corn flower blue .

Go home to your mothers ,
go home and pick your dainty flowers ,
for the hours are short ,
and your days are long ,
go home this day with your mothers where you belong .

So the children came from the mills ,
who toiled all year to their masters will ,
who now were free ,
just for one day ,
to go home to their mothers ,
come what may .

For the flowers are free ,
in the blustery winds ,
that blow all day ,
and are never still .
Much like the child who to this day ,
Picks the wild flowers along the way .

On a Chariot she rides
With love and beauty by her side ,
Sworn to rid this world of sin ,
so love and beauty might enter in .

Devout in her glorious deeds ,
though evil stands ,before her,  ride . ,with sharped claw,
she comes face to face before ,their gods ,of war .
Of those who pedal bigotry  and hate ,
for even they will be slain ,
by the nostrils of Bodicas horses and fiery Maine



For she who rides with beauty and love ,
fights   In valour
for the silver glove .
and with the heart of a sufferget. that is sure .
For every woman who feels oppressed .
To rid this world from It’s dark nights or vice ,
and ****** .
Never again to be afraid to walk the streets at night
through twilight dances in the gas fire light .



And so with lances that glisten and torches that burn
to oust what man once called his slave .
For her Lance is called justice ,
and from her torch integrity burns for
many who are forced to work in chains .
to rue the errors of their ways .

Never again able to read or write ,

wear beautiful garments paraded in their most beautiful light .
So please don’t fear ,
thou deaths claw may soon come swiftly to knock at youre door

For she still rides in glory,
Once ,
and ever more .

To all the friends who we have kept and lost ,
to all the ones we loved the most ,
to every heart that’s ever bled ,
to every tear soaked. sodden  bed ..

Because For every rainbow there is always a little rain ,
and every flower that’s been pulled up,
their weeds will remain.


For it is those that we will never see again ,
we will never forget their names
For every seat that has not been sat ,
we leave a flower to remember that .

And to those silent nights that remain forever still ,
a train pulls out ,
that never pulled in .
we sleep alone ,
in these dark passages of time ,
with dreams we can’t fix
that play around in our minds .

And as for those we might never see again
We just hope we can borrow some time ,
to be alone with them again

For now and again that bird has to fly ,
far away into that sun set sky .

Her black wings of sorrow started to sprout from the muscles on her back ,
all laden with their sorrow
for she cant find a way back
The sins  of those who taunt her ,
with their loveless evil ways
for on this dark and terrible night .,
It feels they will stay with her always ?
For heavenly sorrow is her name ,
for she weeps for those who only have themselves to blame ..

So terrible are her sufferings she can bear their guilt no more ,
alone she now lies dying for she can’t find a cure .

For The black raven is her judgement ,
he holds a Sceptre  in his beak ,
above there lies an Angel ,
that once God turned to stone .
Who  once led the heavenly choirs ,
Whome. God banished from his heavenly throne .

For it is with black wings she sings ,
but never speaks .
“ soon you’re judgement will be O
It won’t take very long
and  no words will you speak ,
for now worms will crawl
from out of your belly
and come out of you’re beak !




So can anything now save her from this dark and
terrible fate ?

Then flew in a sparrow who saw watching from afar ,
said “:I will take your fallen wings and hang  them on a star .”

And the raven and the angel with black wings flew away ,
they  fled unto the tower ,
and had nothing more to say .

And the girl still goes horse riding ,
where the angel and raven fled ,
and looks up. longingly  to a loop hole
Just to make sure that bird is being fed .

     “ But I want to talk to you of things that are immortal ,
        and things that are free ,
          so as you hanker over your sin and sorrow
        don’t you ever bother me “
         said the sparrow ,
          who was chirping from a tree .

Her cheaks were as red as a rose the day that we met ,
like two peaches yet red in colour ,                                                           and.  as soft as her breast .
Yet the chandelier above our heads
was as dazzling as her looks .
But for all my charming manors  she had her eyes set on the tall man with the whip .With his dark brooding looks
and  his charming ways ,
he had a chilling stare .
With tranquil murmurs that brought a colour to her eyes ,
she turned to him as if I wasn’t there.

if I could just take her away ,
from these abandoned ruins of darkness and dispair ,.
for This fortress of love that dwells in her heart     ,
can only lead to tears when death do they part .

On a white horse called. Charger we would ride with
her on side saddle ,
she as my bride .
Away from these dungeons of darkness  ,
I would give her my heart .
Far away with black clouds moving to and fro  above us ,
could never tear us apart .
I would take her to where God hides his
golden lilies of love .
far away to silver mountain ,
O won’t you follow me ?
for his eyes are as dark ,
as the depths of the sea .



But this night canst only live in the dreams only in part ,
as she hands me a glass of red wine ,
Instead of the keys to her heart .

I yes I betrayed him where he knelt ,
alone when he thought he was not by himself .

I betrayed the one I love ,
more than the things I know I love .
More than anything I think I own ,
my mind ,
my self ,
my mortal throne .

I betrayed him I know not why ,
Perhaps it was the golden carpet stairs ,
that lead me to on high ?
For I have always been afraid of heights ,
especially ones with that are so bright !

For broken vessels do I own ,
no not I but in Christ alone .

I betrayed though I know not why ?
For such intense questions usually pass me by .

For he was in his deepest need ,
the hour had come ,
and all my needs for sleep and rest ,
underneath this unearthly night .

How would I know what morning would bring ?
a **** crowing ,
oh he knew it all ,
and so ,
that was so many years ago .
Put back together like broken pots ,
like  his death upon a cross ,
will one day be made whole ,
in Jesus name do we own .

Nothing reminded me more of you than the way you said “ I love you “
And as dawns chill now gives the sky strength to its bow ,
and the scabbard lends the sword  to its chilling blow .
That love in this theatre of dreams ,
might. not always be what it seems ?

And yet i have cast you in the leading role
and love at times makes the jester a out to be a fool ,
In everything I say and do .

But I played such a simple part ,
for did I not love thee with ,
all my heart?
Now everything reminds me of you in everything you say,.. and do .

the evening clouds are darker now ,
you played  you’re part so well some how ,
and the ghost of love gives its final bow ,
it’s flowers never fade or wilt somehow ?
It stands there as a chilling friend ,
for it will stay Untill the very end .
As an unwanted guest .
It sits in the corner ,
on an old armchair ,
Untill the curtain falls .

So the sun has left, our  evenings guest ,
and you with bow and arrow ,
with dark clouds hath awaken me .
You’re  sleeping guest who
exits stage left ,
as if you’re heart could ever break me ?