Whereto thy follow their hearts desire. Volume One.

Whereto thy follow their hearts desire.

INSPIRATION.

Intense

Notion,

Satisfying,

Poetic,

Involvement,

Rhythm,

And,

Touching,

Intelligent,

Overwhelming,

Necessity.

Pegasus.

Pegasus my winged horse poetic inspirer,

Send me a poem to send every ones eyes on fire.

Use your magical hypnotic horn,

Pierce my mind to open those not yet born.

Use your wings to soar across the sky,

Lift thy hearts with your words that do rhyme.

Lead me the way to where my mind glows,

And where the waterfall stops with its flow.

I shall follow the sound of your trot,

As I enter the mildew cave that do not rot.

The echo of your hooves shall send vibes across the damp wall,

As I emerge into an area that the tallest man can stand tall.

With shining jewels that sends prisms of light,

Surrounding this dome of treasures that blind my sight.

Kick your hoof on the fountain that we drink from,

To take in the soothing purity that will make us live long.

To where the sun shines down on me,

From up above through the cavity.

Sending a beam of light surrounding me like a shield,

Where my soul is lifted and my heart is fulfilled.

Philosopher's story.

Many, many years ago from now,

Before the very first book was written.

A young man had walked the fields that are ploughed,

And this is a story of how he became a philosopher of Britain.

A time in history when all is done by hand,

Everything close by and people of good gesture.

Crops growing just out your door to stand,

And no schools filled with groups of kids that pester.

Teaching was done inside the home,

Textiles for girls and hard labour for boys.

You sit up without a frown or a feeling of alone,

While daddy uses wood to use for our toys.

Everyday the home smelt of fresh bread,

Mummy’s face covered with white dust.

Like make-up smothered her entire head.

Yet how we always laugh so to make a fuss.

Young, handsome and wore of good attire,

I stroll across the empty field.

Looking around, up to the sky yonder to inspire,

When I noticed something shining just left to the mill.

My heart racing to beat of a drum,

I scurry along quicker to see.

Picking up the pace more so to run,

Then just there, something round, small as it be.

Never to know of such a thing,

I gently touch first to check.

In my hand I now hold something I shall bring,

Back home to so for me to truly inspect.

In my pocket I place yet still to hold,

Hoping no one else had seen my act.

What is this round, small, solid mould,

I wonder as I run faster than ever back.

Our normal moments at home we kiss mum on the cheek,

As we enter the door where she stands for us.

Wherever back from of our day she to greet,

This time though I pass without a must.

Too excited to realise my behaviour,

In my bedroom I go before anyone speak.

I sit on the edge of my bed so to endeavour,

To know what I have now in my pocket for a treat.

On my desk made of wood with a chair I place,

To sit on my bed not from afar.

I gaze upon with emotions over my face.

Where I remain to see as the moon appears with the stars.

Glancing out up to the night sky,

A beam of light shines down.

The stars twinkling one by one at a time,

When a glow in my room makes me frown.

My mind feels with pure emotions,

My heart becomes attached.

With eyes widen for true devotion,

I appear before my object I earlier stashed.

Taken a seat I gaze upon,

This shining object I now own.

Wondering with all my heart where to be from,

As I stay up all night watching it glow.

The bright light then slowly fades,

Like clouds passing by above.

Images appearing for my own mind to play,

As it begins to tell me stories for my heart yet not enough.

A place from far away high above the skies,

I know now of where this thing of new.

Fallen down to the ground it cries,

A star you are if not to be true.

Always wondering what a twinkle star is,

I now have one for myself.

To learn of the power it consists,

I begin to write down all I see for it tell.

My life had changed from the moment then,

Everything becoming more vast and in depth.

To learn of how things begun and when,

I grew to become a man no longer inept.

Like stories to believe the world is flat,

And stars are of pointed edge.

When really the truth revealed for that,

Is they are both round and this it truly said.

My days of philosophy has now begun,

All I need now is to reveal to you.

The written work I have done,

To prove of the life is not how we all once knew. 

Door on the ceiling.

One night as a child I laid awake in bed,

Looking up I saw a door shining up ahead.

It was made from the moonlight on my ceiling,

This door with shadow for stairs had no meaning.

I wondered what was up in there,

And imagined myself walking up those stairs.

But remained awake in my bed,

To listen to the nights silence instead.

Until I gazed up too much,

And realised myself sunk as such.

I sensed myself back in the room,

With the sound of my heart going boom.

But this door never went away,

So I went to sleep to wait for day.

And I awoke the next morning,

Just after the suns dawning.

I never did see this door again,

Not even thought of it after then.

But somebody wanted to be in touch,

I don't know who, as such.

Innocent child.

Cruel is this life that we lead,

Especially when we pick on the vulnerable and weak.

Defenceless the babe that becomes picked on,

Unable to hide away with nowhere to run.

Poorer the person that stands over to do wrong,

As the power to lay down suffering among.

Not knowing of his own damn fate,

Having to except as it becomes too late.

Suffer and the world feels to suffer with you,

But it is also the world that causes it too.

Something so small and beautiful,

So innocent the child that feels hurtful.

It brings tears to my eyes like blood to spill,

The blood for pain that flowed from a kill.

A broken heart that can not be amend,

So sad for the missing life that I sensed.

Psychic eye.

Take a look into my eyes so I can look into yours,

To read your minds thoughts and open up those inner doors.

Take a look at my hands so I can look at yours,

To read in-between the lines and tell of your futures cause.

Take a look at my words so I can look at yours,

To read the meaning of life and know what’s for.

Take a look at the cards so I can look at yours,

To read what’s on the table and see forever more.

Take a look into the crystal ball so I can look into yours,

To see the psychic eyes vision and be told of how open yours.

A dream.

It's dark and lonely but the colour black can not describe this place,

A solid form of mass, there is no room to see or breath but it is like space.

Entwining visions of lights, purples, reds, greens and blues,

Sometimes even objects appear that I recognise too.

I feel like I am not moving anywhere, still and motionless,

Though I appear somewhere, someplace, alive and dressed.

People I know make an appearance and their mouths move to speak,

But I hear nothing, no sound, no voice, just mime as if my hearing is weak.

The people vanish and I am now being chased by lions and I run,

Somehow I am faster and then suddenly the lions are no longer among.

I then soar to the clouds like a bird flying into the sky,

But I am looking through its eyes, I am the bird, I am in flight.

The clouds wrap around me and form a room of pure white,

With the sense of being lifted in mind, body and my soul is light.

The blinds open slowly half way and close again and then open and close,

Then open completely, I was blinking in my bed from a dream I arose.

Friends are forever.

Remembering for the days whether good or bad,

Thinking of all the times we were happy or sad.

The time we spent together through-out our lives,

Then to be out of sight but not out of minds.

A friendship built on a strong trust,

No matter what, we always made a fuss.

The ups and downs that made us laugh or cry,

Our comfort and joy stays for a long try.

Growing old whether to be in touch,

The years go by yet no matter how much.

We have a place within our hearts,

A natural instinct to forget we ever depart.

Friends are forever they truly say,

Either by neighbour, school or somewhere to play.

A group to appreciate that we ever knew,

Faces to remember through and through. 

Birds and the bees.

We all get told of the birds and the bees,

All the pretty things growing off the trees.

It do not matter how we are told,

But are always asked to be bold.

Venture out and explore the sights,

Just please do not try to get into any fights.

Treat the place with true respect,

And if the first kiss make it a gentle peck.

So I did, I went out and tried to find,

The one that I can satisfyingly say is mine.

Searching high and down low,

No one around to be so.

Then I realised I were looking in the wrong place,

Seek with flowers and see the smile upon the face.

Is this not where the bees can be found,

With the birds somewhere upon the ground.

A mans best friend.

No one ever told me of the birds and the bees,

Or about the monkeys swinging high up in the trees.

To know about the apple in your eye,

That sparkle of magic sent out at night. 

Sitting here alone for myself to work it out,

Fiddling with my ear as I wonder for about.

One day to realise that there is another use,

For what is down below as I begin my self abuse.

Frantically pumping away with my right hand,

Eagerly wanting to climax right here where I stand.

I've even seen a gorilla do it inside his cage,

Down at the zoo where I went one day.

So this is how I learnt about the thing down below,

Something we all crave for no matter where we go.

And you never forget your very first time,

Mine was in the toilet as it stood out in line. 

Stiff.

I woke up this morning with a stiff,

There it was throbbing hard and standing erect, 

Not that I am complaining but it became a pain in the neck.

It wouldn't go down you see,

And I really needed to get out of bed,

If only someone were around to give me some head.

So to give me some sense of relief,

I can't be like this all day,

Otherwise I will give up with the rest of my beliefs.

I don't understand it always gets me with surprise,

I wake up in the mornings,

And there it is to despise. 

Because no one is ever there to satisfy my needs,

I'm left to my own devices,

So guess what I gave myself, indeed.

Virginity.

Virginity,

Has it in for me.

Known for by thee Harp,

Cupid never comes by to pierce thy bleeding heart.

I get left alone and feeling cold,

If only Cupid can make me be more bold.

To give some sense of warmth and care,

Send someone my way so life is fair.

Alas, thus not to be,

I remain alone and some what unhappy.

A fair maiden, a lady or two,

I dream of them all for one day to come true.

Someone sweet and to hearten,

To take hold of and be enlightened.

To enlace her with thy beating heart,

Enwrap my arms and never once be apart.

Someone else.

Why do it take someone else’s tears,

To show your remorse and bring out your fears.

Why do it take someone else’s woes,

To have afflict and all that it shows.

Why do it take someone else to let go,

To show me the way and give sorrow.

Why do it take someone else to comfort me,

Because without you all I will not know how to be. 

Meaning of Love.

SEX, this is how it goes.

S is for Seduction, E is for Enjoy,

X is for no longer, so go find another boy.

LOVE, this is how it goes.

L is for Lust, O is for Obsession,

V is for Value, where E is for Expression.

KISS, this is how it goes.

K is for Kindness, I is for Inner,

S is for Soul mate, where S is for Sinner.

HEART, this is how it goes.

H is for Handsome, E is for Entertain,

A is for Attraction, Where R is for Remain.

And then we have T, 

Now that's a Tease.

What love is.

Whereto thy follow their hearts desire,

Playing upon the strings that makes a deliverance tune.

Uplifting like smoke from a flaming fire,

A feeling no one will want to end so soon.

Brightly a silhouette attracting thy vision,

Creating a colourful prism of love.

A grasp so to hold me in prison,

To not let go of this heavenly above.

Sensual the air that surrounds thee,

As soft as thy gentle touch.

Breath of passion to enfold me,

Pulsating through my body as much.

Eyes wide open with satisfaction,

Twinkling to be a star in the sky.

Pulling me in closer with a physical attraction,

Thy mind flying ever more high.

An angel as thou have wings,

Slowly thy feet touch the ground.

Now I truly know what love brings,

Like an earthquake my heartbeat pounds.

Most beautiful.

Her hair had been made up like a pretty flower,

Eyes sparkled like stars in the night sky to see.

Her smile beamed across at me with such great power,

With a dress she wore like a painting hung in an art gallery.

She walked so gentle like a ship floating on settled waters,

Then she reached out to greet me with a warm hand.

Our minds wandered to a desert island that could not fault us,

As our company grew stronger everyone else seemed not to stand.

Alone we were underneath this silver moonlight,

Only us two voices can be heard.

We stood on a cloud where we remained out of sight,

Others passed by like the wind carrying a flying bird.

We held each other for so long,

To not notice the sun about to appear.

The night had soon went by and gone,

As dawn broke out and we only remained to be here.

Birds singing high up in the trees,

The morning dew throwing off a beam of mist.

From this moment we certainly knew of our needs,

Sealing the promise to be together confirmed in our kiss.

Yearn with passion.

What am I supposed to do,

when all I can is think of you.

You take me to the highest cloud,

and that should be something to be proud.

I think of you each night and day,

and wander for you in everyway.

Some things in life are not meant to see,

but one day I hope it will be you and me.

The stars that shine in the night sky,

I make a wish for you and I.

All these things that live around me,

have no meaning until you are beside me.

I wonder if I can go on,

without you in my life seems so wrong.

You grabbed my heart and tugged it hard,

it yearns with passion and beats by far. 

I cannot see beyond a doubt,

I believe one day you will be about.

This love I feel is a mystery,

don't leave me this way to become history.

I really want you by my side,

to keep me warm and safe and feel alive. 

Something’s in life were meant to be,

please say you will and lets be free.

I climbed the highest mountains.

I climbed the highest mountains,

I sailed across the deepest seas.

I drank from the purest fountains,

And walked forever amongst tallest trees.

I fought off the wildest beasts,

I passed by hungry vultures.

I ate some of the finest feasts,

And lived with many cultures.

I stand here now for all to see,

I have this woman by my side.

I experienced the sense to be free,

And now wish one day this to be my wife.

Flames of passion.

You make the devil inside of me

burn,

If only you can see what I see

the things we can learn.

You add the fuel to the fire

it rises to highest heights,

Yearning, burning with desire

let me show you the sights.

Around this camp fire we sit,

I'll take you by the hand.

Watching the flames of passion lit,

Seeing visions appear for upon the land.

Smoke rising to the sky,

with images forming.

Signs that do not lie,

when the devil is calling.

Togetherness.

I need some inspiration,

To give me fascination.

I need to feel impressed,

So my love can then be expressed.

Give me all that you got,

I want to see the lot.

I want you to rip your heart out,

So everything of you is about.

You need to satisfy my mind,

All it takes is abit of time.

Don't worry about the moment,

When you're ready give me the love potion.

Just take me by your hand,

And fly me across this land.

Let's sit on top of the world,

In your arms we shall enfold.

Let's reach for the stars above,

And send out all of our love.

I want to show everyone we care,

Together we remain as long as we dare.

Just don't ever let me go,

It's in your life that I flow.

Like a rock you are to me,

Unbreakable of we.

The three R's.

The Three R's, Road. Rage. Rider,

Wearing leather clothes to my hearts desire.

When you first rode on in with your bike,

The moment I saw you I knew I liked.

I do not know what it were about you,

But the more I saw of you I knew it to be true.

Like keeping the engine on the go,

My heart could not stop beating the blood flow.

One day you rode off at the break of dawn,

I watched you through the window hoping my heart is not torn.

As you kicked your foot down on the throttle,

Standing your ground and not be forgotten.

Up to this day I wonder where you had been,

Are you still alive, will you ever ring?

For absence do make the heart fonder,

So when I see you again please do not make me wonder.

Blind date.

I went on a blind date and wore a carnation and some spray,

But when she turned up she took one look and ran away.

I tried to chase her to ask her what is wrong,

But she had scarpered and was clearly gone.

I wonder if it is because I look old and fat,

Or, is it my clothing and big furry hat?

Maybe it is I didn't quite smile,

Well, I do have some teeth missing and my nose is abit vile.

I stand here alone trying to catch my breath,

No point waiting here all night I'll catch a cold of death.

I'll give up tonight and try again,

Perhaps it's not women I want but maybe men.

Though a lesson to learn from what happened tonight,

If I cannot succeed with one sex I may as well give up the fight. 

No, first I shall start with myself by looking in the mirror,

And, see what I can do to make me be a winner.

I think I will start to go to the gym,

Cut my hair and give my beard a trim.

Throw out all my old clothes and buy new attire,

Become a changed man before I retire.

I cannot stay single for all of my life,

Surely one day, I will find my true wife.

So let's count the days that I had won,

Really make an effort so not to be a lonely one. 

Belated lover.

The flowers in the vase are withering and about to die,

Petals falling off and slowly drooping over the side.

The perfume scent still somehow lingers in the room,

Standing on the coffee table but in the bin they are to go soon.

They were a gift from an anonymous admirer,

Delivered the other week by the firms courier.

There had been a card to accompany the bouquet,

Yet nothing to give any idea whom from or what to say.

Just a small x to mean a kiss,

After signing for them the man went away calling me miss.

I meant to chase him back from the stairs,

Ask him if he knew anything of these flowers and their wares.

After a few days I had a phone call,

'Soon I will know who on the night when the moon is full'.

So now for days I been wondering of my fate,

Watching time, listening for the phone, not realising when it gets late.

And now as the flowers are dying the full moon begins to appear,

I stand out on my balcony watching the people below walk near.

To then hear the doorbell ring its chime from inside,

I turn and enter to walk over to look through the peep hole to pry.

I feel every beat of my heart as I breathe heavily against the door,

As the doorbell rings for another time, I jump and still look for more.

But all I can see is another bouquet of flowers held up in front,

What seems to be a man behind hiding his face, so to see I don't.

I slowly reach for the handle since he wont go away,

Hesitating for time incase he do decide to stray.

But I turn the handle and the door then clicks,

This is it now, no turning back and forgetting all about this.

Then to my surprise a smiling young man appears from behind the bunch,

It is one of the factory men at work whom is sorry for missing our lunch.

A date we supposed to of had over a week ago, 

But I were left out alone and feeling cold.

'Forgive me' he says as he hands over the bouquet,

'I am sorry I am late, I swear never to treat you again this way'.

I smell the flowers and then let them hang down by my side,

As I reached towards him and pulled him closer to me with his tie.

We kissed for a while at the door and then shuffled into the flat,

Unseparated our lips, as we undressed and the flowers dropped to the mat.

That night we passionately made love all night long,

Watched the sun rise in bed and forever to belong.

Fields built on love.

There are fields built on love,

When two are together the clouds disperse from up above.

Creating warmth and light for the grass to grow,

And when are apart the sadness causes the rain to flow.

The leaves ensemble and form a shape of a heart,

To show that there is real love growing and has been from the start.

A gentle breeze cools the heat down,

Spreading the love dust further around.

The vast colours shining, attracting the eye,

Like being handed a rose with passion for you to pry.

The floral aroma sending a sensation through your chest,

If this is what love do, than this is the best.

A night out.

The sound of rubber sliding across glass,

Wiping the rain off the windscreen of the car.

The ticking of the indicator played rhythm with my heart,

As I sat in the back of the cab, along the kerb where we parked.

I were searching for my purse from in my bag,

To pay for the cab ride to the nightclub from my flat.

I would of walked but the weather gave cause to frown,

As the club is not very far in my local town.

Early still was the evening of my night out,

Just about getting dark as more people came about.

I paid the fare and thanked the driver as I stepped out of the cab,

Watching for puddles that may splash my new shoes that I had.

I gently jogged to the queue that gradually became long,

All lined up against the wall and not knowing anyone where they're from.

I checked myself over and adjusted my skirt,

A quick flick of my hair and suddenly I felt quite pert.

Where I tapped the shoulder of a lad in front,

Asked him if he knew what the club is like, which is my usual stunt.

He told me he hadn't been here for quite a while now,

But said the last time he were here the music was brilliantly loud.

Suddenly we entered the club together as the doormen checked us over,

I was not alone for now as I wondered if he too were a loner.

But then a sudden rush of people came rushing past,

And I lost the lad in the crowd as everything went by fast.

I came out to the main floor where the lights were dazzling,

And the music playing loudly gave euphoria and a sense of amazing.

I checked in my coat and went straight to the nearest bar,

Ordered a drink when a voice shouted over the music that wasn't very far.

'I'll get these', said a young male voice as an arm appeared at the side of my head,

Holding out cash to pay for the drinks that towards the barman then led.

I turned and it was the young lad I met at the queue outside,

Once again to meet where I said, 'thanks', and he whispered 'hi'.

I thought I would never see this lad again for tonight,

But here we were on the dance floor, dancing all night.

Before we knew it the music stopped and the lights came on,

The evening went by without realising from having so much fun.

We both grabbed our coats and headed outside into the late night,

The rain had stopped to a clear sky and a bright moonlight.

I suggested we went back to my place not very far from here,

Where we walked away from the club, holding hands with no fear.

Love decides.

When my heart was split in two,

I needed to make a choice.

Whether for my heart to run away with you,

I just needed to hear your voice.

Whisper in my ear,

Tell me how much I mean to you.

Let me listen to those words I long to hear,

So then I can say my love for you I truly do.

Come closer by my warm beating pulse,

Feel my grasp on your soft, smooth skin.

Stay with me not ever wanting to go,

Our two beating hearts shall forever win.

Complete my fate, my wisdom, my lives passion,

Join my heart with yours to be entwined.

Our souls living as one true fashion,

Where we are matching like two pieces combined.

Prince charming.

Hair soft as cotton,

Eyes blue like the sea.

A laughter never to be forgotten,

As I lay awake dreaming of her to be with me.

I feel her smile beaming down like the blazing sun,

With a temptation to rejoice.

Her presence I demand must be won,

As I listen carefully for her voice.

My eyes slowly close with force,

While smiling upon my face.

I am now prince charming riding on the back of a horse,

Galloping towards a kingdom come shall to be her place.

I pass a fair lady carrying a basket,

Filled to the brim with fruit.

Hurrying through a village market,

For my true love to have my heart as loot.

I see a light at her window,

As myself on the horse comes to a halt.

To dismount, stand and look up to from below,

Hoping I do not fail me now and to be at fault.

A shadow passing by which seems to be of her,

I step forward, hesitate and frown.

Just then catching a sense of myrrh,

How wonderful she smells for this to renown.

But then I awake from my slumber,

With the candle flickering at my side.

Incense burning causing a spell to go under,

This dream of her I shall now have to abide.

Once Upon a Time........

While eating boiled egg and soldiers and making abit of a mess,

Far, far away I were told of this very lonely princess.

So her Dad the King and her Mum the Queen,

Put together a tournament to see what man it will bring.

"For one day my girl", He said,

"You will need a man as a Prince to wed".

For three nights and for three days,

All the men never succeeded that came their way.

Until the fourth day this man whom looked very troubled,

Wore torn clothes, scruffy hair and a bit of a stubble.

Approached the throne and said, "have no fear",

"For the man your Princess needs to wed is now surely here".

With the King looking down at such a person,

He had wondered will my Princess marry for better or worsen.

So the King came forward and asked of this man,

"What is thee to do to be able to marry my daughter of the land"?

So the man said, "For I, my King will surely bring",

"To this Country the most powerful thing".

"All I need is a few more men and some horses",

"Then I will return and reveal to you of my causes".

The King and Queen looked at each other,

And giggled abit and wondered shall we bother.

To say, "Well dear fellow what if I do",

"Loan you a few men and a horse or two"?

"My King and Queen take a look up into the night sky",

"And on my return the Moon will be repaired, I tell no lie".

The Queen had thought how can such a thing be,

Although the Moon tonight do look rather unhappy.

So off the man went with some men and horses in tow,

And just before he left the castle gates gave a big bow.

So the King and Queen waited on his return,

While the Princess wondered of this man and what can she learn.

Galloping on the back of a horse across the land he went,

As fast as he could towards the half Moon to mend.

Until he reached the furthest corner of the land,

Where sand and sea had now failed his marriage in hand.

When just as the message of failure had reached the castle,

Another courageous young man had approached and asked her.

"My sweet Princess can you not see",

"This peasant of a man will make you unhappy".

At which the King had suddenly frowned,

Scratched his head and almost lost his crown.

To then approach this smartly clothed man,

"To which achievement do you think you can?"

Taken the peasants idea to mind,

He thought he may achieve the same kind.

"My King, I too shall repair the moon",

"But for I, will need a ship and some crew".

With the King almost laughing at such a deed,

But since the last man could not succeed.

Had said, "Young man I will oblige",

"I wish you well and shall bless the tide".

So across the waves the ship sailed,

Reaching further to the moon than where the last man failed.

Until a high tide had washed them back ashore,

And the tournament was open again once more.

This time a man of such cleverness,

With combed fair hair and smartly dressed.

Had approached and already took the Princesses hand,

And led her out to the balcony to look at the land.

With King and Queen looking over at them,

And realised the mistakes they made with the past men.

Knew straight away whom shall wed their Princess,

And started to think of the wedding dress.

As they spoke for hours while the sun died,

The Princess was requested to look up at the night sky.

"You see my sweetness how the moon is nigh",

"A Moon do not need repair I tell no lie".

"It is a trick from the light that shines from the sun",

"Reflecting on the moon and causes such fun".

"For now I shall take your hand and ask of you",

"While under this moonlight that shines down on us, do you feel the love too?"

The Princess takes hold with both hands,

And suggests, "at our wedding shall we have a brass band?"

"For my love this feeling has come naturally",

"And, you are the one I shall marry".

With King and Queen smiling from ear to ear,

They begin to spread the word of what is about to take place here.

For by morning wedding bells shall ring,

Let the whole country know so they can bring.

Good wishes and life’s fortunes,

And much happiness under many light moons.

For this will be the Princesses biggest day,

No more will she feel lonely in any way.

So on the next sun rise they all prepared,

With flags, drapes and all that cared.

For food and wine and an orchestra for music,

All in smart attire and decorative tunics.

From this day life in the country will change,

As the Prince and Princess will become one name.

And their love in the air will surely reach,

From inland to the furthest beach.

And now the story has been told,

I have one last soldier to dip before the egg goes cold.

And the moral of the story is never fall for deceit,

Find your true love and grab every heart beat.

THE END.

Queen.

My Queen, how can someone of such beauty and charm be without thy King,

How can you be amongst us and take on alone with what life in this country shall bring?

Would you not rather be seen as the bride and not the bridesmaid,

Be romanced and dined with rose petals all around laid.

Together be ruling ones castle, kingdom and life,

While having the Kings body as a temple and be his wife.

I shall confess to you with what I see when you wear ones crown,

A sign of doing the Kings duty as if it is his that comes down past your frown.

And, your thrones that you do take a seat upon,

As if it is the Kings you take your place that makes you sit higher on.

My dearest, My Queen, you seem alone,

Without thy King with you on your throne.

What if this country do go to war,

The type of battle thy King is to be sent out doors.

And, what if our King whom is next in line to reign,

Is without thy Queen will he too wear the crown that remains?

We seek for a king.

One day of sudden this country were in turmoil,

Everyone in a panic that lived on the soil.

The Queen were to leave her throne but without a successor,

So queues begun at the palace with first in line an odd looking professor.

'Come, come, show me how do you do?' said the Queen with tongue in cheek,

As inspectors clapped and laughed but in a way to seem rather bleak.

One particular chap thought it be to come as a jester,

With bells on his hat and shoes it rather not impressed her.

'I'm looking for a King not some damn looking fool',

'Someone to rule the country', as then walks in a farmer with a mule.

It has to be said, 'and, I can see this one will certainly pass',

'Not for what he may do but for showing me his ass'.

As time went by lots of different people come and go,

But one of whom that do see fit did not show.

The sun went down and the Queen made a big sigh,

From the look upon her face she thought 'will anyone take place of I'?

Then suddenly, before one shall retire,

She turned and looked astonished as she gazed beyond the fire.

'My plan will come to a reasonable conclusion',

'But first we must seek out and resolve this solution'.

'By the first dawn we shall call upon those whom are in tatters',

'I seek for a man, a man for a peasant as it really do not matter'.

'This man shall do good for this country and all that are in it',

'Knowing our deepest wishes to turn our country back on its feet'.

Away the Queen went with her robe draping across the floor,

And the palace gates were closed so to not allow in one more.

Tossing and turning the Queen went all night long,

Mumbling and waiving her hand as every thought was wrong.

Sooner than later the sun then did rise,

And the Queen sat up in bed with a scream for a surprise.

'He is here, I know he is, I can feel his heart beating',

Servants wondering what one were to be thinking.

To beckon, 'Quickly, quickly, come, come', 

As the Queen jumped out of bed to rashly run.

Still wearing her gown and fluffy slippers,

Hurried to her throne and called upon the gate keepers.

Clearing her throat the Queen begun, 'I call upon thee of today',

'To enter this palace and hopefully to not go away'.

Something of the Queen that was wished for every time,

But then, 'so too the ones that we shall head out to find'.

'I call upon my own servants to seek and bring to me in hand',

'I shall search high and low all across this land'.

'Until I find the one that this country shall see fit for a King',

'My servant ones let today’s tasks begin'.

And so too the day had begun to find our thrones one,

This day will be the longest to gracefully be done.

Those whom come to the palace were still not yet to be found,

Whereby no sign in their hearts that truly deserve the Kings crown.

A call from outside beyond the palaces own gates,

A mention of a man whom has a chance to stand he makes.

'Bring him to me, let me see for my true self',

'Let this man stand before me and show me his true health'.

'This man shall be of good mind',

'To know ones own fate where he is of now in time'.

'If the Kings crown fits this mans head',

'Then he shall reign long after myself is dead'.

Gasps come from around the palaces hall,

Echoing through-out the entire palaces walls.

Such shocking news has hit everyone and all,

But true to herself thy Queen will never let this country fall.

Even such measures to be taken for this new day,

Where a peasant becomes ruler to speak for everyone that he say.

As quick as news travels across this land,

The man of importance enters the palace to the sound of a brass band.

'Sit', as the Queen points to the Kings throne,

'I must see before you that you can be seated here alone'.

'I must not be at your side as when you become',

'Ones new ruler to our country to do what has to be done'.

'But my wishes are to remain until my place is to be fulfilled',

'By the countries own true one that shall see beyond the ill willed'.

'Make no sacrifices but to cure the sick',

'Only you know what is wrong from the point where you were picked'.

Seated on the throne the peasant took his place,

As the Kings crown is tried on upon his poorly looking face.

With long hair trailing down at his side,

A prickly beard and moustache that is enough to make any girl cry.

'I, shall call upon a barber to trim your hair',

'So for you to look more decent and too the crown to fit fair'.

'Perfect as you are I am sure you agree',

'But it is those among us that you are to please'.

'Listen to me now, your Queen is to address',

'To all citizens of this country we have a new King that shall impress'.

'I shall now retire in my chamber for slumber and decline',

'Wherefore I shall fade away and you our King shall be nigh'.

A time and place.

There is a time and place for everything, they say,

But what if the time and place do not connect in anyway.

You are thinking of a moment but can't quite get to the place,

Or, you are there right now but the time is of a disgrace.

Best one, when you think of something but never have the time,

And when you have a spare moment something else fills your life.

Like if you are always being in demand,

As too business and pleasure do not mix so calm.

Perhaps one day you should just head on out,

Do not worry of the time and see what's about.

Laid back and watch everything go by,

Absorb it all into your mind and not just your eye.

So for later to recap over all that you seen,

Appreciating every moment and not regret anything.

Even those temptations that did go by your way,

They are just to torment you to try and ruin your day.

Distant memory pt.1.

Is it your name I see written on the wall,

The one I knew many years ago.

It's all become so confusing,

And now, I really cannot let you go. 

But what is there for me to hold on to,

Had you known me all this time.

Where was you when I really could need you,

You never were ever at my side.

I never did forget your name,

A distant memory right there in my head.

And now I see it written for me to see,

I fear you may well be dead.

But I heard you call my name the other night,

And you told me who you are.

Your name became enwrapped around my mind,

And even now after all these years you never were that far.

I feel you tugging at my heart strings,

I hear your name whispered through the grapevine.

I can not bare to face you,

In fear of you being unkind.

I never thought I knew who you was,

If ever I believed it to be you.

I don't know how I am going to prove it,

I will just have to ask you if you feel it too.

But I find it hard to walk your way,

I do not see myself coming close.

Although I know I want to, someday,

Because there is something I really need to know.

(Distant Memory pt.2.)

I am waiting for the right moment,

To tell you what I know.

To see if you will believe me,

And discuss to see where all this will go.

Until it gets too much for me,

I have to get it off my chest.

To open up my mind again,

And bring my love to test.

If you turn out to be the one,

And all works out well.

Even if we just be friends,

At least I managed to tell.

It may be like we are kids again,

playing in that playground.

standing next to each other,

and making us once again be proud. 

A story that will never end,

a tale for all to tell.

But will it end with a happy ending,

Or, will we all say farewell. 

An abandoned love.

I said I will walk out of that door, 

And now I have for I can not stand it anymore.

You treated me a way that drove me insane,

You were so blind to not notice my pain.

But I am strong and kept it deep down inside,

Until it got too much and took no more of your lies.

Yet even now you do not know what was wrong,

Perhaps if you spent time with me I may not of gone.

An abandoned love that was wasted and drained away,

Someone else deserves me so do not again persuade me to stay.

I did not expect of you to fulfil me with satisfaction,

But to be grateful and show me some appreciation.

Anyhow it is now all too late,

Let this be a lesson and a twist of fate.

I wish you well and the best in your life,

For I am about to let our time we spent now untwine.

A date to remember.

The lights have been turned down low,

And the room is lit with a warm, orangey glow.

The balcony doors are opened to let in a cool breeze,

As the satin nets blowing gently to then settle with a small crease.

In the background music softly play to some operatic tune,

On the table plates with napkins and neatly placed Knife, Fork and Spoon.

A bottle of red wine, opened to set for room temperature,

And unlit taper candles waiting to burn and make your eyes lure.

Everything is laid and waiting to take its place,

Even the chairs are gradually pulled from under the table space.

And the meal is slowly cooking in the oven,

Set low just incase the guest is late as anything can happen.

I pace up and down keeping track of the time,

Making sure everything is happening in line.

I wonder do I open the door so he can enter straight away,

Or leave it closed so to knock and then I make my play.

I hope everything goes as smoothly as planned,

The evening is beautiful with moonlight shining across this land.

A date I want to leave an impression and not be forgot,

I have even reserved a parking space in the car park lot.

I can not stop looking at the watch on my wrist,

It has only been five minutes since the last time I did.

Everything is fine I keep telling myself,

And then I jump suddenly to sound of my door bell.

I approach the door checking myself in the mirror,

Realising still wearing the apron I tear off with a quiver.

Taking a deep breath I open my door,

Where two policemen stand and life suddenly becomes no more.

My heart sunk as I am told of tonight’s fatal doom,

A car accident as he were on his way to me in this room.

This date is definitely going to be one to be remembered,

One that never happened and for one I now do not cared.

Love gone amiss.

It must of been that three second wonder,

You walk into the room and all else stands still.

A glance over to the yonder,

Patiently await like a bird on the windowsill.

Just as to fly away and be gone,

My mind left empty.

To wonder on,

Filled with a room of people aplenty.

Deep in the back of my minds eye,

A moment to enjoy.

Like a twinkle star in the night sky,

To disperse and never to deploy.

I think for more to know,

But my heart can not withstand.

Nervous like meeting my foe,

Hoping my feet are touching the land. 

A person never met before,

Yet to fill a bond of closeness.

Just as quick to enter this door,

The feeling leaves with looks on to bless.

Am I coming or am I going,

To ask I may find my way.

Encouragement I guess like blossom in the wind blowing,

To continue on with what is at play.

A choice to follow this moment I felt,

In mind, body and soul.

Already I can feel my heart melt,

With my feet not willing to go.

I stand alone in this space I stand,

Like a child about to be told off.

A glass in one and my pocket hiding my other hand,

I look down and around for nibbles to scoff.

So shy yet still there the wonder of my dreams are,

Is the feeling mutual or faded away.

This childhood schoolboy I am at afar,

How silly to let this moment go astray.

Now, yes, this timing is right,

I about to urge forward.

Damn, someone beat me tonight,

As a coat is brought out and I feel a coward.

Unknown.

From a young child I always had a dream,

But deep down within I knew it wouldn't be.

As it were manipulated by an elder,

For later on in years they gain higher power.

But destiny had proven they have gone without,

And did I enjoy teasing while I went about.

Only little did I know,

My name recognised by many ago.

See those were promised a future of good,

But now I am around it is all misunderstood.

Now don't ask me why this has come about,

You obviously been conned and have me in doubt.

Now you may think I sit here and know what for,

But I wonder more why no one comes knocking at my door.

So I am obviously not here to make good friends,

For whatever the reason I don't feel to be at amends.

Sometimes I wonder where my mind is at,

While all the time I am here where I had been sat.

See time do not tick around in my head,

It's empty and dark like I am brain-dead.

This poem I write I don't know what it is about,

I must be looking for answers without doubt.

The words rest in peace is taken in vain,

Then why do I feel the walking dead across this main.

Life has not come so easy for me,

If there is such a thing, where can it be.

For what is before me do not seem real,

I'm tired and pointless and surreal.

Small troublesomes.

It's just those little things,

Those small troublesomes that life brings.

Like when bees buzz by your ear,

Or a blocked nose so you can't breathe so clear.

When the sun only shines for a short while,

And the hands stop on the clock dial.

The ink in a pen runs out while writing a note,

Or a button drops off from your favourite coat.

It's just those little things,

Those small troublesomes that life brings.

The ones that make you want to pull your hair out,

Stamp your feet and scream and shout.

When empty milk cartons are placed back into the fridge,

Or a splash of food on your top even if it is just a smidge.

And when a glass gets broke for it fell out of your hand,

Like when you want to relax but suddenly are in demand.

So too when the batteries go flat in your remote,

Or you forget an umbrella and get home soaked.

While out driving you run out of petrol for forgetting to fill up,

And you notice a big chip on the rim of your favourite cup.

It's just those little things,

Those small troublesomes that life brings.

The ones you get really stressed with,

The ones you would rather miss.

Like during a power cut and only one match to light a candle,

Or the strap on your new handbag has broken its handle.

Where all your change had fell out of the hole in your pocket,

So too where the fuse has blown from inside the socket.

The bulb in your lamp has suddenly blown,

Or missed your favourite programme for getting late home.

The train you want is now delayed,

And a scratch on your car means a respray.

It's just those little things,

Those small troublesomes that life brings.

The ones that cause so much bother,

The kind you leave the next day or another.

Runaway innocence.

I knew there were something going on,

I was just not quite sure what was wrong.

I felt the finger pointing at me,

But how so, when my innocence can run free.

Perhaps you wanted me so to blame,

I almost were convinced of you being my new flame.

Keep your friends close and enemies closer,

I rather not incase my life falls into an enclosure.

Did you really expect me to take on your fault,

So for you to walk in my boots without being caught.

You can try and see how far you will get,

But I swear on the day that we ever met. 

Desperado is not my favourite game,

But if you insist I'll make sure it won't happen again.

Roll the dice and accept your fate,

If you take my life instead of yours than I am the key to the gate.

I see the frown upon your face,

Do you really think I shall give in to your disgrace.

This life of mine is for me alone,

You may try to ruin me but at least I still have my own.

Look at the sweat come falling down,

You must be guilty otherwise how comes I am still around.

My innocence comes to you as a way out,

A runaway innocence is all you are about.

Revenge.

Raped by a thousand men,

That is how he got his revenge.

She had killed him as a young child,

This is his way for not ever making her smile.

She always kept putting up a fight,

But he hung onto his toys with all of his might.

Until one day she fought too hard,

And this young boy died in his back yard.

She even blamed him for the breakage she caused,

Even while he lay dead in front on the floor.

From this day on she were never to play again,

Until she came to meet her very first man.

Where she realised the boy has not really gone,

For he possess the men and her virginity is gone.

She was raped by a thousand men,

It still goes on and this is his revenge.

I can't speak...

I can't speak French so I'll let the funky music do the talking,

I can't speak Italian so I'll let the food do the talking,

I can't speak Irish so I'll let the drinking do all the talking,

I can't speak Russian so I'll let the Vodka do the talking,

I can't speak Welsh so I'll let the sheep do the talking,

I can't speak Scottish so I'll let the haggis do the talking,

I can't speak African so I'll let the dancing do the talking,

I can't speak Chinese so I'll let the Kung Fu do the talking,

I can't speak German so I'll let the sausage do the talking,

I can't speak Mexican so I'll let the salsa do the talking,

I can't speak Spanish so I'll let the serenade do the talking,

I CAN speak English so I'll let my poetry do the talking.

Life’s choices.

From the moment you learn how to walk,

You begin to stand on your own two feet.

With courage to know how to talk,

To thank for the food and place to sleep.

A maternal love by your side through your life,

Giving you slight encouragement out of the door.

Like showing you how to ride your very first bike,

As you grow and grow all the more.

Seeking for true love to make you feel safe,

You realise how it is only a roof over your head.

Not matter how hard you try to make it their way,

In the end you are only given a bed.

You may look back and wish to rely on your past,

But the door may of been closed long ago.

Trying to find the right way in this life’s task,

Where you may feel how you are all alone.

To wonder if your own life is free,

At times it feels it is at a cost.

Of someone else’s to make it be,

How they wish to make you feel at a lost.

With every heartbeat is a battle through,

Fighting the days bringing and strife.

Not knowing what all this will come to,

As you wish for a more peaceful life.

To think for your own true self,

But in each corner of the mind is tormented.

As if you are mentally being sent to hell,

A more common known way is demented.

So whichever reason you make in your life,

Do not allow someone else to make it.

Choose wisely and make sure it feels right,

Or someone will take claim for your own credit.

Stalked.

Of all the things that I could do,

None of them seem to involve you.

But why is it you are always about,

Under my skin, stalking me out.

I don't even know who you are,

But you're bothering me like I am a star.

You leave little clues lying around,

Somehow I know it is you and I am not proud.

It started off with silly little things,

But now you seem to have a hold of my wings.

I am not the one who is being bad,

Though for what you become you are really sad.

Now why would you want to bother me,

Is there something you done and need to be free?

I realise now you use any excuse,

You even pretend to be nice to cause an abuse.

Even words I say that is not for you,

You use them against me, now why do you do?

I am sick and tired of your stupid mind games,

If you want to act like a child, go to a playground, go on, away.

Now let's see what you are going to do,

And, don't say it's because you care, or how stupid are you.

And don't tell me it is because you are a friend,

Even a foe can come to amend.

Don't try to tell me I am the one in the wrong,

I have obviously upset you for the way things have gone.

Well I am not the one who holds the key,

You have to find your own way and let me be.

Problem being.

The problem being there is always someone telling me how to be,

Lots of prying eyes making their own mind up with what they see.

As if I can not make a decision for myself,

The need for permission to go about as well.

A life to lead is to find your true soul,

But the confusion when others tell how it's to go.

Even the silliest and smallest thing,

Watching the telly, cooking or having a dream.

I can not even scratch my nose,

Without the slight indication of someone saying where the finger goes.

I can lick my lips from eating something sweet,

To others it is of doing another situation my mind do meet.

I think I torment those who wish upon,

Telling lies with certain moments I to look on.

Trying to convince with what I am doing is,

Other than I initially think for this.

 

Disliked.

Some things in life are disliked of me,

Well pardon me for to sleep, eat and breathe.

How crafty these people not to do it to your face,

Well I am sorry if you do not fit amongst my own human race.

I am sorry if I come across to you as resent,

But this life here I live is not how I meant.

Yet, still you push me to the very edge,

And try to convince me it is rather better to be dead.

Alone, unloved and without sympathy I see,

I dare to ask of you to make me happy.

For I walk this path on my own,

It feels better that way as I roam.

Little temptations do come by my way,

But at a price, I do dare to say.

So next time you ask of me,

Try asking the right person rather than from we.

If not to be loved.

You broke my heart,

You broke my soul,

You ruined my life,

I had nowhere to go.

I believed in you,

To tell the truth,

You led me astray,

Now what am I to do.

I stand here alone,

Looking only at you,

I have no choice,

But to make it through.

It is so unfair,

I can not believe,

You can treat me this way,

This is not how it should be.

I use to dream,

I will find one day,

Someone to love,

And be loved in everyway.

But now I find,

It do not exist,

Because everyone believes,

Business and pleasure do not mix.

So what am I,

If not to be loved,

Just an empty shell,

Waiting to have enough?

Yet it is not a play,

Nor a story to tell,

The choices that are made,

Tend to be ones that are not very well.

I sit and wait,

Like locked inside,

Putting up with each day,

Trying to make what is right.

Sometimes I wonder,

What am I to do,

But it is not for me to decide,

As I already am putting up with you.

You just wont stop,

Tormenting me,

No matter how much,

You wont let me be.

What made you think,

I want to live like this,

Wherever I go,

There is always this twist.

You always think,

You know best,

You are the one who is right,

Well how comes you leave it to the rest.

You don't care,

What happens to me,

The way things are so far,

I am never going to be free.

Putrid Love.

Putrid love,

I don't believe it is made from above.

It makes me sick to think it can be,

I'd rather go without and be unhappy.

I don't want to be smothered in hugs and smooches,

I don't want any flowers or pooches.

I don't need to be shown how to have a good time,

All I want is be able to be mine.

Do not say how I belong to you,

Or before it is even begun we will be through.

I don't want to hear how we are made for each other,

For you will annoy me in the head and cause me so much bother.

I do not want to know what I will miss,

For falling in love to me is taking the piss.

It embarrasses me to see you behave this way,

That four letter word I'd rather you not say.

The righteous can not be perceived.

Look at me now, 

Pity do not,

For your eyes look through a window that is not of your soul.

Condemned of this life I can not be,

For the one whom I came bare, 

Holds me back.

The days are dark,

And unlived,

Where the righteous can not be perceived.

The air to breathe,

Can not be so,

As I have no life inside of me.

Like a flower to grow,

The warmth, the light and the minerals of life,

Are not rooted as they are dead.

Go on forth,

Continue your journey,

I can not travel with you.

If judgement persists,

Which life is looked upon,

When the heart had been stolen.

Therefore unto you,

Are nobody in particular,

As my doing is not of yours and yours not of mine. 

Blood seen cheap.

Poor is the blood,

From the peasant of a stud.

But rich to be,

If drank from a goblet for free.

Disgusts flow with the wretch,

Seen as cheap as the days met.

Not to be seen as way to live,

But as riches for those luxuries to give.

A price tag placed upon,

But rather quality than quantity to moan.

A life seen as not good enough,

Which you dared to judge the above.

Blood is thicker than water,

Although more in red which wont faultier.

Try to suck on a dead rat,

Then tell me how my forsaken is crap.

Destruction.

I'm on a road to self-destruction,

It's manic, insane, and an abduction.

It's the only way how I can feel good,

To screw up my mind and more if I could.

I'll trash this make-up upon my face,

Smudge it about and look a disgrace.

I'll wreck my hair and rough it up,

And, rip my clothes to be a scrub*.

I won't be the same anymore,

You wait when I come crashing at your door.

You never liked me once ago,

Now look at me, to and fro.

This is not for your own self pleasure,

I'm doing this for good measure.

For something you did say to me,

The way we both are now we wont be happy.

So take one last good look,

For this pretty page is no longer in my book.

Don't try to convince me to come back,

It's over between you and me and that's a fact.

I'm on a road to self-destruction,

It's manic, insane, and an abduction.

I'm going to be a complete new person,

Whether for good, or for worsen.

*Scrub - to look rough, coarse.

Condemned.

While I were distracted for a moment,

The life I knew no longer existed for another day.

For what became befallen,

Had been taken away.

The trust I knew and relied on,

Later to be deceived.

Foolishly to believe in what was wrong,

For how my life could of been never complete.

Horrific torture to satisfy,

Thee wicked souls.

As I lead a life where thy,

Pretend nobody knows.

To this day,

Working it all out.

Where in my mind to stay,

My past life I now truly doubt.

When, how and mostly why,

As if, two wrongs make a right?

Which means all these years everyone had lied,

To cause this day to be in fright.

All her life she suffered,

Just so to send him down.

But in my darkest minds thoughts that are muttered,

She is the one being punished without a doubt.

Painfully done I wonder,

How she is not dead.

With no legs or arms among her,

To stand, walk or move as the body is said.

How had I lived my life without knowing,

She was gone.

Oh how the tables are turning,

And I, and she, were the one in the wrong.

Lost souls.

I like this playground where I stay,

There are children there each and everyday.

But not the sort you see normally,

These are the dead children I see spiritually.

I call it the playground of the lost souls,

Where the dead children play with their cars and dolls.

The parents come by everyday to pray,

And wish for their children to find their way.

But if you listen carefully within the wind,

You may hear a cry or two that a child shall bring.

So if you ever hear someone talk in the playground,

Remember of the lost souls that are around.

First sign of madness is not to talk to oneself,

It may be their dead child that sent their mind to hell.

How did they die nobody knows,

But you're sure to see the swing rock as the wind blows.

A life spawn.

A life spawn,

Swimming the depths of the oceans.

Feeling life’s sharp thorns,

Like the rough waves of emotions.

To reach the surface when all is still,

Gasping for breath.

Where a bird grabs you out to fulfil,

As the unsettled past has finally left.

Carrying you away high up in the skies,

The world becomes small.

Looking down yet not to despise,

For whom I once knew and all.

Blinded by the sun,

And dry as a desert.

A new life has now begun,

Only memories to feel pleasant.

Childs cry.

As I sit here in my kitchen near to the sink,

 I watch through the opened door into the garden, trying not to blink.

For there is also a bird bath right there in front,

 And the child riding the bike in the garden trying to dismount.

The smell of the ammonia is causing such a stench,

 And the conversation flowing is to one day find that wrench.

We keep meaning to fix the bike as it do not work very well,

 But the child keeps wanting to ride it and we do not like to tell.

Until that horrible day when the hair dye stung my eyes,

 Distracted away from it all and I did not see how my child died.

I heard the child screaming but it was not for very long,

 And the bike on it's side with wheel spinning and the top of the bird bath gone.

Then the screams and the stinging of the eyes entered my own heart,

 On this terrible day I knew my child and I had been sent apart.

Fell on his head.

You told me he fell on his head,

As you were ironing he fell off the bed.

You didn't see him roll off the side,

Only heard a thump and then as he cried.

You say the music had him bouncing up and down,

The radio playing in the background with the sounds of motown.

He must of bounced too hard and rolled forward,

While your back were turned seeing him was awkward.

You were supposed to of been looking after him,

I gather he had been sitting right at the brim.

Distracted by the phone no doubt,

I know you like to nag even when you are out and about.

Didn't see him climb down and crawl across the floor,

I suppose you left him alone and walked out the door.

Leaving the iron on as where it was,

He grabbed the cord and this is what was the cause.

The iron board toppled over and crashed upon him,

Iron still hot lands on his head and one of his limbs.

You were nagging on the phone and not looking after him instead,

And you told me how he fell off the bed.

Childhood flashbacks.

Childhood flash backs from within school,

Playful moments can be seen by a fool.

Four pair of scissors are heavier,

Than 2 plastic bricks that weigh lighter.

I could of murdered them one and all,

Stabbed with the scissors in the heart to fall.

The teacher looking on most impressed,

My childhood may of been more violently stressed.

Tooth fairy.

Fairy, fairy on the tooth,

Place it under the pillow is all a spoof.

If you were a good little sport,

Our teeth would not fall out and you wouldn't of got caught.

Or, how do we know it is you that places 50p,

For every tooth I sell to you from me.

Greedy as you are for those big molars,

So to the dentist as your spell told us.

You cast a curse on everything sweet,

Where then we need treatment on the dentist seat.

I should never of given you my first tooth,

After then you been haunting me for every one that is loose.

Since I used the 50p to buy some sweets,

A start of something that this circle keeps.

Fairy, fairy can you not see,

Soon my mouth will become empty.

Wake up call.

I have a few different types of wake up calls,

 I can't really think which one is the best of all.

If it is not the old man getting up for work at the break of dawn,

 It will be kids playing football on the lawn.

Not that it bothers me of kids making such noise,

 After all, boys will be boys.

Or, the postman comes knocking at my door,

 But never a letter for me so wouldn't mind some more.

It can also be people walking by with their dogs,

 Or, high-heeled women taking a stroll in their clogs.

I really don't mind people coming by my way,

 Can you imagine if I stayed in bed sweating all day.

It's just they happen at certain intervals,

 And, in-between I fall asleep again to dream of water falls.

Until I awake and think 'ok',

 'It is now defiantly time to arouse and start my day'.

If only I were like the early bird to catch the worm,

 Then perhaps I would not be up all night giving a toss and a turn.

Glass collection.

9am and bells ring,

But the not sort an alarm clock brings.

I am awoke by the sound of clutter,

Smashing glass like a raging nutter.

I dare take another snooze,

For this wake up call is now on the loose.

Playing music as it reaches each bend,

These are the sounds of the glass collection men.

Early morning.

Driving down the country lanes

Beams of sunlight shining 

through the trees

and across the plains.

The yellow glow

giving off a warm feeling

with gentle haze

makes me want to drive slow.

This morning day break

lasts no more than an hour

like a secret place

to escape.

Emerging to an urban area

with houses

parks and schools

with people wherever.

Morning dew rises

and clears

leaving only the round

orange sun to us despises.

Children, women, men

walking out

of their front doors

to a day begun for them.

The busy day passing by

with everyday noise

of traffic, shuffling feet

and planes up in the sky.

Hands of time

turning on the face

of a clock

where it quietens by nine.

Darken falls

and the moon appears

stars twinkle

for some bedtime calls. 

Until when 

the darkest night passes

to awaken

to see the early sun again.

Visions in the sky.

The hot blazing sun is blinding my sight,

As I begin to see huge pigs in flight.

The odd bird may fly on by,

They are being chased by a dragon in the sky.

A massive cat with helmet and goggles riding a motorbike,

Puppy dog chasing behind on a skateboard to play and not fight.

Big spaceships carrying people to planet mars,

As horizons broaden and I see far and far.

Cupid floating across with a harp and bow and arrow,

Giant heart split into two as my vision becomes narrow.

Clenched hand reaching down towards me,

Lifting and taking me to cloud nine for more to see.

Baby dragons giving small puffs of smoke,

Faces appearing but words are never to be spoke.

Buffalo charging across in slow flowing motion,

Heading in the distance as the next vision causes an emotion.

Horses stampeding as to run away from,

As fishes appear but never to stay for long.

And as the days sun starts to die,

In the fire I sense a huge battle in the sky.

As everything fades away with the daylight,

Like waves of smoke drifting away for the night.

I stand and pick up my things from the floor,

I seen a lot in the clouds today and now head on indoors.

Hidden place.

At the back of my garden where the forget-me-nots grow,

There is a small garden gate that hardly show.

Over grown shrubbery concealing its place,

Where birds fly into convincing me to look upon my face.

I take daily strolls towards this secret sight,

Placing bread on the table for the birds not to fright.

I wonder what can be beyond the high grown shrubs,

Do it lead me to a place with long blades of grass and lion cubs.

Or, a magical world filled with fairies and very tall trees,

A place with bright yellow sunflowers and busy bees.

Perhaps it is a door with only a step out to some city,

But the noise of the traffic can not be heard so not to pity.

As I stand in my garden I think of something beyond this garden gate,

Why is it there and to be only discovered of late.

I remember the day when the birds acted oddly,

Noticing how there is more to this garden for me.

Now on everyday when I bring bread to the bird table,

I dream of this hidden place and think of some fable.

Not wanting to disturb the birds but thoughts to cut it back,

My curiosity is getting the better of me but courage I lack.

Then one day as I stood at the back of my garden,

The birds all flew out and away they went without a pardon.

Suddenly I heard a click from the gate and the wind blow,

The shrubbery clearing and the gate opened as my face began to glow.

Out charged this huge horned bull and came towards me,

I stand with shock as he approaches in all his glory.

He picked me up from the ground where I stand,

Turned and carried me on his back to enter the hidden land.

The sun shining through the gaps in the trees,

Causing prism of light to sparkle down on me.

We trotted along the pebbled path,

As butterflies flutter and I reach up as I laugh.

Songs from birds filled the entire hidden kingdom,

With red bright mushrooms and daisies growing with them.

Like a painting hanging on a child’s bedroom wall,

I grab the bulls horns just incase I fall.

Like a child again who is playing in some fairy wonder land,

Bouncing on the back of the bull I look down at one of my hands.

Is this place for real or am I just dreaming,

The birds that flew away caused me to fall and all is not as seeming.

The bull stops as we reach the end of the pathway,

Where he encourages me to walk and not wanting to stay.

As friendly as the bull may seem to be,

When he sends you on your way he knows how to make you see.

With a few huffs and scrapes of his hoofs,

He nudges his head upwards as to point in front of you.

Not very far up in front I can clearly see another gate,

One leading to a bridge when my mind thinks for being late.

I gaze at the bull one last time wanting to get back,

But he is demanding me to continue and that is that.

I slowly make my way over to the bridge,

Every so often looking back like a miserable kid.

The gate opens all by itself with a creak,

I gradually walk through it when my knees go weak.

The bridge not looking very stable,

Made of rope and not some strong cable.

Too late now the gate closes behind me,

I begin to step out but suddenly I am falling slowly.

My hand and legs are waving all over the place,

As I fall further and further as the wind to embrace.

Just before I hit the ground,

I awaken and realise I am in my garden and make no sound.

I had fallen from the wooden ladder I stood up against,

Cutting back the shrubbery that the birds flew from the fence.

A Bird.

Have you ever wondered how a bird flies,

How it flaps it's wings and soars through the skies.

There doesn't even have to be any wind blowing,

Yet, still it flies across up high and I never know where it is going.

So I watch it move across as I stand underneath,

Looking up and following the sound of its little heart beat.

Twittering away and dipping up and down,

Flying sideways and acting like a clown.

But foolish a little bird is not,

For when in danger the little birds nest is never got.

Diverted away, you think you know where it lives,

Until the all clear and correctly it gives.

To the sound of its young,

Waiting to be fed and be thankful for what is done. 

A worm, a berry or a piece of bread,

All day I can watch those birds until it is time for bed. 

I even donated my own bird table,

And never let a bird tale become a fable.

For a bird is real and true to see,

Flapping its wings and being really happy. 

Crow.

I walk the streets and see a crow flying about,

It lands on a nearby tree and my heart feels safe while out.

I look up and admire its glossy feathers and shiny dark eyes,

It looks down at me but not in a way to despise.

I walk away and with another footstep he then flies off,

Where I see another crow, is it him or another above.

I feel the same secure, heart warm feeling as before,

Further down the street as I then see two in flight to soar.

Feeling glad how they are both not alone,

How flattered I am of them seeing me home.

They disappear far into the days blue sky,

Like black diamonds hovering over you and I.

Crow on the beach.

Lying here on the sand with one leg bent,

An arm resting behind my head.

Looking up to the sky feeling the warmth sent,

Listening to the waves crashing against the seabed.

Brighter than the sunshine this sand I lay upon,

Feeling the soft texture under my skin.

A few pieces of greenery grown among,

With a tree leaning over very thin.

Alone I am here on this island,

Thinking,  yet nothing to think about.

Nor another person around to stand,

Even my own company I do not doubt.

Then a crow appears from nowhere,

Perched on a branch of this thin tree.

Strange to see for a place a crow usually not care,

Though infatuated as he glances over towards me.

My loneliness suddenly has gone,

As I feel the crows presence.

For days company I so had long,

Watching this crow clean with such intense.

Shall the crow stay or is he to fly off,

Taking away with him my happiness.

Emotions to cause myself to cough,

Yet not wanting any sudden carelessness.

The crow leaps but to bounce to the floor,

Where he squawks as he approaches me.

I look around to see if there are any more,

Hoping how they will not be.

Can I befriend such a dark, mysterious creature,

As I now sense I am not the only lonely one.

Looking me up and down to absorb my own feature,

This crow is checking who he is among. 

Hideous it may seem for such a small bird,

As I can easily scare him away.

But mighty he is no matter how absurd,

To remain still and quiet where I lay.

A trust built from being stranded here,

No choices are to be made.

I befriend a crow as he comes even more near,

And glad he decided to stay.

Pond life.

How the ducks and swans swim across,

The risk they take to becoming lost.

How they gaze at me with their dark, black beady eyes,

To reach out for bread and can be taken with surprise.

Standing here feeding them from this deck,

Eagerly flapping their wings and pointing out their neck.

Like they haven't been fed for many a years,

I have enough bread though to feed, so no fears.

I wonder if there is anything else swimming around in this pond,

And, do these fowl really live here or have I been conned.

In summer these Geese fly in sequence above where I live,

Amazing to see them fly so low and the noise they give.

No matter what time of year it is,

This pond is always filled and not a day is missed.

But there must be another place where they stay,

Or why else fly over across the way.

Birds in the trees.

As I walk around listening to the birds in the trees,

twittering away like to speak on the surface of the breeze.

I wander with glances for to discourage my attraction,

Feeling their company knowing they're there without having to mention.

Strolling along the path with every slow moving step,

Picking up scents from the flowers I met.

Flapping wings be heard from the back of my mind,

Seeing these birds fly across in the corner of my eye.

A game they play like hide and seek,

Making me follow the sound of their fast rhythm heartbeat.

A flock by the bird table as I appear by the hedge,

Eating what’s laid before them as to eat their daily bread.

Like a splash of water drops the birds fly off,

In separate directions just I wish for them to stop.

A gentle giant I hope to appear of me,

With delicate hands for the birds to sit and be.

Alas this dream is not,

As I head back thinking for another day to be got.

Oak tree.

When the wind comes and the two shades of green show,

By the underside of the leaf where the branches sway to and fro.

With the sweeping sound in all its leaves,

You can see the life in the tree.

Tall as it stands towering all that is below,

With its roots firmly to the ground underneath they flow.

Ruling the area it belongs to, this tree is King,

All others do not even compare, to even think.

A fir, a birch, not even a pine,

The Oak Tree is far better and fine.

Humungous in size and wider than any other,

To be shaded underneath you will never be hot under the collar.

Out in the wild where the lions roam,

You will see under the Oak Tree they call home.

Resting from the hot blazing sunshine,

But never do they attempt to climb.

For too wide is this trees trunk,

To grip onto and allow their claws to be sunk.

This tree is not there to be climbed,

It is to be left as it is and grow bigger with time.

Gardener.

The smell of freshly cut grass and petrol from the mower fills the air,

The same air blown through the opened window of a room I stand in here.

I gaze out of the window watching the gardener pace up and down,

Using the muscles in his arms and legs to push the mower around.

Now and then he stops to empty the gathered grass,

Grass he cut that has formed stripes in the lawn for a week or two it last.

Until I see again his shaven hair, muscles and nicely bodily tanned,

Like a romantic novel I shall become putty in his strong hands.

Sometimes I speak and ask if he is thirsty for a drink,

With this hot sunshine blazing the work becomes harder than you think.

Alas, he declines so I quickly think of something else to say,

Before he carries on with his work and departed he goes on his way.

For another day the garden has been up kept,

With the strong smell of cut grass lingers as I slept.

Am I the only one whom notices the gardeners hard work,

As it only takes till in need of another trim when someone makes a remark.

Grass.

Running my fingers through the lawn,

Tender yet rubbery to the touch.

Sometimes pointy like a thorn,

But never as sharp as such.

How can such greenery be so fine,

Yet pointless and unrealistic.

Even the cows will turn a blind eye,

But I like to lay out amongst it.

Wild flowers sown from their roots,

Though never to be trodden down.

Even while people wear their boots,

But never to give a frown.

Nature speaks.

Melodramatic it seems,

As people gossip on their door.

Talks of land destruction in dreams,

A place to be forever never more.

Blue skies and a breeze,

Gently blowing across.

Birds singing in the trees,

As blossom mixes in the air with moss.

Shortened grass and green as envy,

Always on the other side of the fence.

Words spoken of a plenty,

When a hedgehog emerges from a hedge so dense.

Scurrying along like important news to tell,

Its tiny legs sped along the ground. 

Towards the tall tree close to the well,

With the dried leaves causing a scrunching sound.

A flock of birds flutter from the branches,

Sounds of acorns falling.

To see a squirrel spiral down and prances,

Quicker in pace the hedgehog run as to be calling.

In nature too the animals speak,

And gossip is what is said.

As one person walks by the tree,

And an acorn lands on his head.

Realising now the hedgehog overheard,

And hurried along to inform.

So to see the spread out of the bird,

To tell all other animals to be warn.

With the anger from the squirrel,

Nature do fight back.

Wandering people being a part in the middle,

Walking upon land that may no longer be intact.

Gossip can spread as quick as wild fire, 

But now I see by from.

To see how they all learn I admire,

The same instincts they all have among.

And this tree so tall and well established,

A home for many things and more.

Grouped together and under one wish,

To remain a home for longer not far from this door.

Like the saying a little bird told me,

May well be true.

To speak amongst with,

Those animals can also hear too.

Wasp.

Sitting on the bench in the garden with my cup of tea,

Talking to my sister when suddenly something disturbs me.

I jump out of my seat while waving my arms in the air,

'Oh, what's that, where is it, is it gone', panicking like a silly mare.

Shaking my head from side to side as my hair flows about,

Ducking my head down and closing my eyes with my lips to pout.

Buzzing by my ear I scream and run indoors,

Leaving my tea outside with my sister wondering of my cause.

'It's gone' I hear my sister say picking up my tea to pass,

I emerge back outside feeling wary of a wasp that may sting my arse.

Back to my conversation and sipping my tea outside on the bench,

When another wasp appears from nowhere causing me to wrench.

The back of my hand I slap that wasp away as hard as I can,

To hear my sister then scream, 'It's on me now', jumping up and ran.

Both of us trying to hide away from something so small,

Flicking our hair about and waving our arms like headless chickens and all.

How can something so small give us such a scare,

We are far bigger than it but to stay still if we dare.

Buzzing in front of our face causing us to go boss-eyed,

As it lands on our nose with shock, I swear we could of died.

Spider on my bucket.

There is a spider on my bucket crawling around I see,

It's small, black with 8 legs and looks very scary.

I dare not to bother it incase it jumps out at me,

No, I'll leave it to run the bucket marathon and let it be.

But what if I need to use the bucket to mop my floor,

Oh someone please help me get this spider out the door.

Look, it's there crawling around on one leg or two,

Now it is looking up, but is it at me or is it at you?

I'm not staying in this room with that little pest crawling, 

What if I need to use the loo I wont be able to do a thing.

I'll be sitting here panicking holding my feet up in the air,

Hovering over the seat, looking here, looking there.

I wonder if a neighbour is in to pick it up in their hand,

And throw it outside amongst the others within the land.

I don't know why I am so timid with this type of creature,

Usually I am quite interested in insects and their feature.

But, what if it decides to make it his home,

Spin it's cobweb and hide inside it's dome.

Waiting still and looking out at me,

When all I am doing is sitting here having a pee.

To think of it I am getting a quiver,

Tingling down my spine and having a shiver.

I can't stop scratching the back of my neck,

Oh let me grab a glass for bleeding heck.

I must be brave and tip it into,

Please don't crawl back out or I will be stuck like glue. 

I might scream and jump up like it is a mouse,

But it's only small and I want it out of my house.

There is a spider on my bucket and it still hasn't gone,

I'm such a coward where did I go wrong.

There is a spider on my bucket and it is there to stay,

Let me forget about it and it will all go away.

The rose.

The rose, so pretty,

So many different colours, that's the pity.

It means that you will never be satisfied,

Knowing there are more to be eyed.

Whether you choose red, pink or yellow,

The one next will never seem below.

So what if you buy them all,

Neatly planted in your border and up against your wall.

A rose garden to adore,

But don't forget to leave room for some more.

Double flowers, hybrids and climbers on arches,

Beautiful petals and leaves that grow on branches.

When in flower you will see,

All the gorgeous colours and the scent it be.

And just to show I have some romance,

I'll bring some indoors to glance.

Oh what a scent, go on take a whiff,

Dip your nose right in and have a sniff.

Are you just glad to have a smell so grand,

With pretty petals dancing around like to a band.

But be careful of those thorns,

One prick on the finger and it will be sworn.

To wear garden gloves next time,

To protect my green fingers so to be fine.

What would we do without this life,

Roses to see like being in paradise.

I see now why they made perfume,

To live from the garden and be in tune.

Blossom.

A gentle cool breeze blowing,

Carrying blossom from off a branch.

Floating around not knowing where it is going,

Like a surfer at the beach from the waves he launch.

Drifting far off to a distance,

Like an important place to get to.

Leaving others to fall to the floor in an instance,

Without looking back it continues on through.

A gust picks up and forces it further away,

The heap on the floor spreads out.

As to pick up for another day,

Been singled out from the rest no doubt.

On it goes past trees and people walking by,

Twirling around here, dipping down there.

To suddenly pick up speed and makes a dive,

Landing on a dogs nose shockingly now aware.

The travel is complete it has reached its final place,

Making a further distance than the others.

Even if to land on to a dogs face,

The rest are left behind on the floor they smothers.

Summer.

Summer sun breaks out before dawn.

 Daisies growing out of the lawn. 

Everyone laying in the heat,

 Cool breeze blowing trips a heart beat.

The smell of meadow dew in the air,

 Scented flowers making life seem fair.

Smiles all around as all are out to see,

 Barbeques lit mid afternoon with glee.

Burgers in buns with relish and cheese,

 People are happy and are really pleased.

Men and women gathered around,

 holding their drinks and feeling proud.

Hours pass around the clock,

 Some begin to remove their shoes and socks.

Paddling pool and party games,

 Hope no one had forgot to ask their names.

The sun slowly goes down from the sky,

 Early evening and the barbeque fire begins to die.

Conversations still flowing nice,

 All high up on sugar and spice.

Some gradually start to leave,

 Others remain with tongue in cheek.

Without a doubt they all had fun,

 We must do it again but this time around my one. 

Summer silence.

The silence that surrounds you and I,

Giving time to relax and think.

Watching birds and butterflies,

With dripping water yet not to drink.

The ticking of the clock,

Gentle breeze passing by.

The bleating of the sheep in a flock,

And humming tractor that the farmer ride.

Children playing not far from I,

The thud of a football kicked.

Flapping kite high up in the sky,

Sounds of joy from ice-cream licked.

The suns rays causing a gleam of dust,

Like a coat made from heat wave.

The warmth giving off such lust,

Like a dog on heat in the grass it laid.

Grown trees for a place of shade,

Where everyone huffs and sighs.

A choice for all to be made,

To be warm from the sun or cold as the tides.

Fluffy white cloud.

Peaceful that it be,

White clouds floating across open blue sky.

To look up and see,

Without a wind to blow by.

Wondering where this cloud will float to,

If only to follow.

Where shall I end up if I do,

To leave behind without any sorrow.

To walk through the meadows,

Full of blue bells and busy bees.

No place to hide not even in the shadows,

With the warm sun shining even under the trees.

Birds flying by just up above,

Are they following this same cloud.

The one that has also taken up thy love,

As I slowly walk along feeling deep down proud.

As I reach the end of the meadow,

A gate to climb.

I pick a bunch of blue bells from below,

Upon the gate with brambles on the side that entwine.

To continue my journey along a winding lane,

High hedge rows by the side.

The same fluffy cloud all white and plain,

Still to see floating by and to abide.

To then stop right above a lake,

A wooden pier for me to stand upon.

Is the cloud motionless for the water to take,

Or has the fluffy white cloud no longer to float along.

Here now for me to stay,

Seeing ripples in the water.

Wonder for fish down below to play,

As I throw a stone across the surface and yonder.

Crown of golden leaves.

There were once a ruler that lived in the forest,

He wore a crown of golden leaves and made this promise.

On a day a golden leaf fell from the crown,

As he sat on his throne and looked down upon the ground.

He held his look for a very in deed time,

And thought to himself 'I am not now feeling fine'.

A face filled with embarrassment hoping nobody saw,

The falling of the leaf wishing another no more.

The once was enough to fill with rage,

And then cursed the land the moment on this day.

He had suffered with a deep fate,

Now the land shall suffer on this very date.

All leaves will fall to the ground from the trees,

For the time it will take till he will be again pleased.

Days went by, weeks and months,

The land was bare until someone come up trumps.

Full of sorrow set deep in her eyes,

This young maid brought some flowers to his surprise.

Not enough to warm his cold heart,

These flowers bright and from afar.

With the curse set in and going strong,

Where can these flowers of come from.

Then one day too much to turn away,

Petals falling from the sky to the feet they lay.

Giving a smile from upon his face,

As he stood looking out across this place.

Where to see suddenly grow on the crown,

A new leaf to shine golden again above the frown.

The warming of the heart had brought this about,

Where the curse had broke and the land no longer in doubt.

Lonely rain cloud.

Pretty lonely rain cloud,

Hovering up above.

Moving slowly along without a sound,

Until its had enough.

To open up and let it rain,

Somewhere where it is dry.

To water the thirsty flowers on the main,

To then say goodbye.

Snow dragon.

In a far, far away magical land,

Where only dreams play.

Made from the snow flakes that fall into your hand,

A place where a snow dragon stays.

A castle made out of ice,

The entire area of pure white.

There the snow dragon lives his life,

And where darkness is covered with pure light.

Built upon the highest mountain,

And trees looking like ice-cream cones.

The snow to fall like a never ending fountain,

So too the ground is hard as stone.

Some days you may hear the dragon sneeze,

And like dust the flakes appear.

Sending them down upon the breeze,

Looking up where the dragon to see most clear.

So to recover all the flakes he may of lost,

Appears the dragon and stays until all is gone.

To send back to his kingdom of frost,

Wherever they land on the ground upon.

But as quick as the snow melts,

The snow dragon is once again away.

Leaving all behind under a spell,

To be back to his icy throne to stay.

Empty field.

The field had been laid empty for a while,

As it stretches across the area for more than a mile.

Sometimes during the year you see the odd sheep or cow,

But recently there have been nothing of now.

There is a footpath to follow all the way across,

Leading you astray and hoping not to get lost.

As it turns left here, right there or straight ahead,

A stile to climb so to access another mead.

Some with high hedges, trees and long blades of grass,

Others whereby lucky to grow weeds or anything that may last.

And if you're lucky to trek far enough to see,

You may reach a farm house with barns and a tractor that be.

So to cut down anything that is seemingly overgrown,

Or in some places crops that had been previously sown.

But never something that is recognised as edible,

Always something other than a fruit or vegetable.

So most of the land is seen as wasted,

As of now majority of the land is to be reinstated.

Property developers have begun the digging,

To create places of leisure and many homes to live in.

So goodbye empty fields you are to be no longer more,

Less work for the farmer and anything else that's for.

For soon it to be occupied by homeowners and schools,

Although I'll miss the greenery even if I am taken for a fool. 

Wall of gold.

Behind me there is a field made out of gold,

You can see it for miles I have been told.

It's built solid like a wall,

But it is not narrow nor is it tall.

It spreads far far across the land,

Covering this area where I stand.

For I do not know what it is there for,

Though what I can see there is going to be plenty more.

Sometimes the smell can be of a disgrace,

I bet though when in a recipe it is of a great taste.

For this wall of gold can be eaten,

But remember the tale told of in the garden of Eden.

I'm not saying there are snakes waiting to bite,

But this wall of gold is sure putting up a fight.

It's been chopped and sprayed and even whipped,

Tough as old boots I have been tipped.

So next time you come out to the countryside,

Before you say 'smell the air', you want to come around mine.

I'm not saying it is a very bad smell,

Quite floral really, but I do tell.

So I told you once, I told you twice,

Sometimes this smell is not very nice.

But you get use to it after a while,

If only I knew I would of lived further away than a mile.

Frizzy perm.

A full gale wind has blown my frizzy perm out of place,

And the puddles have made my feet a disgrace.

My skirt is doing a Marilyn Monroe,

As my bare legs are whip lashed and feeling cold.

I'm trying to hold onto my new hairdo,

As well as my skirt before my knickers are seen too.

I never thought of bringing along with me an umbrella,

I had an appointment at the hairdressers then on to meet my fella.

I now look like I been dragged through the bush,

Leaves and twigs being blown about and sticking to my mush. 

My hair is now gone all flat,

Like a puppy dog put in the bath.

And now here is my fella laughing out loud,

Called me a drowned cat and said it proud.

So I grabbed him by his cheeks with my wet hands,

Pushed him over the hedge and left him flat on the land.

And now I find this all very funny,

My hair a total waste and my fella chasing me in a hurry.

Then the sun came out for that brief moment of time,

I thought, 'Why me, why did it had to happen with mine'.

Chewing gum.

My travels have taken me far,

It all began on a bench in a park.

Left here feeling stuck to the seat,

Darkness fell and I felt myself back up on my feet.

Bouncing around like on the back of a horse,

Yet warm, soft and here to stay no matter what cause.

Odd sometimes how when dark I feel this pressure,

And, wind that blows by though not from the weather.

Still here I remain and getting about,

Where do it end, my travels I start to doubt.

Then suddenly I feel this tug and pull,

I feel myself stretching but not to feel tall.

Something had pinched me as I feel a finger and thumb,

Hanging here in the air all over feeling quite numb.

Dropped to the floor but not feeling any hurt,

My travels as a chewing gum on the back of a skirt. 

Einstein’s theory.

E equals square Einstein said,

I know now what he meant even though he is dead.

For E do not equal square,

The square is an E to be fair.

Shapes and letters are all the same,

Once you know what they are it is a great game.

So here is a little clue to get you started,

Then these shapes and you will never be departed.

Depending on how and when they're placed,

The word can be seen in front of your face.

See a rectangle can be an L or a P,

Are you following this along with me?

The circle can be as is an O,

But also an U or C, did you not know?

A triangle can be either a V or A,

Are you liking this game, do you want to play?

Now let's go back onto that square,

As you know an E but also a D if I show you where.

So if you wanted to spell the word LOVE,

Use the Rectangle, Circle, Triangle and Square from above.

A flying ship.

Sailing across the open sea,

The rough rocky waves, 

With not a moon in any direction to be,

And the dark starlit sky.

To find the right answer,

I use an open map with compass,

As I pour from a decanter,

Keeping myself upright.

The ship tilts from side to side,

Trying to stay sturdy on my feet,

My drunken vision makes me tired,

I hear splashes up against the porthole.

Then all becomes calm,

As sudden as being elsewhere,

My glass drops from my palm,

To then see mist forming.

I hurry to the deck,

The ship is stable as the waters,

In front is there nothing to be met,

As I look around to wonder.

From a distance up ahead,

I see the mist slowly moving,

Something is coming to be said,

But what, as I begin to feel lonely.

A solid white mass,

Drifting across in my direction,

But how when I am seem to be at mast,

To notice another ship.

No wind, nor motion on the surface,

Yet I have not set anchor,

And this still moves to embrace,

Clearer but feels as a ghost.

Closer it comes and the water is still,

This is not sailing on the sea,

It is hovering above with a propeller of a mill,

A flying ship ghostly in white.

Moving home.

We all were born to fly,

To leave our nests and get on by.

Some will fly from pillar to post,

Others will stay where they are at the most.

So wherever your wings will take you,

Good wishes on your next adventure and may all the luck be with you.

Happy home.

I sit here looking down at my plate trying to make sense of it all,

Prodding at carrots imagining them to be fallen pillars that once stood tall.

Potatoes that were arched shapes of art to a roofline of a building,

Sprouts forming small bushes in the garden of rows forming.

The slices of meat being the walls of this once beautiful home,

What happened to cause this crumbling, fallen place, in a heap all alone? 

I imagine the gravy to of washed it down to the floor,

As I slowly, piece by piece eat each part that is there no longer more.

Did I see this ruined place as possibly a happy home,

A place to run away to in the mind, to roam.

But the walls of reality came crashing down,

As I sit here eating it away upon my face I frown.

The moon.

Have you ever looked up and saw the half of the moon,

And also wondered where from the 'Humpty Dumpty' tune.

Well, take a look up into the sky, 

Then you will surely know the meaning of high tide.

Now you know why all the kings men,

Couldn't put 'Humpty Dumpty' back together again.

For how the moon fell out of the sky,

Apart from what lives now the past had died.

Riddle me this, riddle me that,

Will the moon fall in pieces or intact?

See all those craters are not made by moles,

Those craters are drilled in holes.

Is it really man destroying the earth,

Or is man continuing for life’s birth.

So next time you see a rocket soaring up in the sky,

Just maybe it is to save all of our lives.

But I for one will surely miss the moon,

As it be my ruler for eternity or doom.

And when you seen the moon in whole,

This story of mine will be told.

Strawberry Moon.

If, you take a look up into the night sky,

 You may see a round shape looking down at you and I.

Philosophers once thought it were made of cheese,

 Others, tried saying it is a cracker, oh please!

But, I know exactly what it is,

 And, when I tell you, you will think bliss.

See, it is not really white, black, or blue,

 It is really a, 'Strawberry Moon'.

So, next time you place some strawberry jam onto your bread,

 Remember where it comes from, instead.

The fear is really inside of me.

Fears of not knowing how it to go,

A plan to seek out for satisfying thou.

Fears of believing in thy truth,

As lies spit out from the skin of their tooth.

To live inside an empty shell,

Hollow, or holy, as some call it for hell.

Trying to speak out with the minds words,

Only life is as to be under a curse.

For what is told within sight,

Is hidden away from a light so bright.

Ironically it seems as to cry wolf,

The bark is worse than the bite when to move forth. 

Even if no one believes in the madness,

A method within to cure the sadness. 

Fate twisting like a knife,

If to be so then slay my sorrowful life.

For the fear is really inside of me,

To be condemned to a state of mentality.

Mental haunting.

A person whom is not there,

Can be thought of and heard to make life unfair.

Footsteps following me around,

Like they walk on transparent flooring and see me on the ground.

Mentions of things or words that I am about to do or say,

Or smells to follow like I am in their game to play.

Continuing on with their word like there is no full-stop,

As to keep a grip on my mind so step in with a word they thought of.

It's like I am gambling with a thing that to be myself,

Arguing, disagreeing, only they seem to know what to tell.

It speaks down to me as to tell me what to do,

Only I can not move until it decides to agree with me too.

Like keeping me nailed to a particular spot,

Only it is I who is in control and you just think what you got.

It's as if my thought is diverted to this thing that I hate,

So to tell me what I already know and continue with my fate.

Pinned at my temples so for me to halt there and then,

So to steal my moment and torment me where I then offend.

Is someone up there playing a game of chess?

Where they steal my spot and I think of nothing less.

Everyone has their own character to play,

Tormenting one and another in every way.

I'm not sure if I can explain this spiteful test,

Like an annoying little light that speaks and is a pest.

Echoing on and on and on and wont stop,

So to be familiar with it's voice where it can step in on the spot.

I do not even know why this had begun,

As if to have me mistaken, yet it won't give in and be won.

Sad little loser I am beginning to wonder,

Another level we taken all because what it wanted has a blunder.

Like a squeaky little rat that annoys my mind,

How much longer do I have to play this hellish of a time.

Death threats also I do get to hear,

Such as, 'if you don't hear me you'll die' so to fear.

Best one of all is, 'meet me you die',

How so when I haven't met this thing that I sigh.

It's a punishment that I have no recognition of,

But it believes I deserve it for something I may of forgot.

It tells me of what I have guessed wrong,

But never to tell of where it is really from.

Oddly enough, the guessing is all by itself,

Like telling me 'that's not me', of all the people I may entail.

So will it one day suddenly reveal,

For me to then burn to a stake like a witch to kill.

Driven out of my mind.

It visits me everyday,

The voice that is driving me insane.

Sometimes it stays all night,

Keeping me awake, causing me to want to fight.

But, how do you deal with something that is not really there?

It is just a voice, nothing, this is not fair.

Why am I being punished in this certain way?

Why do I hear a voice I know of but hate it everyday.

Sometimes I punch the air, a wall, even slam a door,

If ever I met this thing, I surely will flat it out to the floor.

Mainly three things I hear it say,

'You're me', 'who', or just a long 'eeeeeeee' non-stop everyday.

Like a whistling kettle, or a dog whistle blowing into my mind,

Always on my left, always there, tormenting me time and time.

It seems to have a grip on my mind, like a halo with its own name,

Hassling me, making me feel uncomfortable, making me feel really lame.

It begun soon after my own father had died,

I return home and this bitch of a voice starts at my side.

Sometimes, I can make it out to be a man(?),

But with the same high pitched voice that torments in everyway it can.

For two whole years, non-stop, I am being driven insane,

Even if I to walk out of the door I know it wont go away.

It's like a game that I am waiting to pass,

How dare they treat me like this, who do they think they are to give me this task.

Sometimes its like a piece of my mind cut out and placed beside me,

Agreeing, speaking, but as a woman, only winding me up and wont let me be.

I can't stand it, it is the most annoying thing I ever heard,

If I ever kill, you can not blame me, it is all because of her.

I shall not seek for medical treatment,

All I get is pills to dope me up and then it has beaten.

This is ruining my life, my mentality and wisdom,

I can't even find the tear to cry to get it out of my system.

How dare it, how dare it make me become something I am not,

How dare it appear highly and tell me of a life I haven't got.

It is the most annoying thing I have ever come across,

Do it annoy me mentally for not being able to be my boss?

The hurtful thing is I recognise the voice at times,

But then it alters and I know not of this thing that commits mental crimes.

Sometimes the one, or maybe the two, 

Like echoes screeching through my mind, for fuck sake what is it with you?

Even when it is trying to make out it is not there,

But I can sense it, sometimes hear like teeth click, waiting to behave unfair.

Gently whispering the same words, 'you're me', 

If so, then how comes I am here, the voice is there but it I can not see.

Torture on the mind.

It started from a distance across from the sky,

To the effect from an open door but way up high.

Like a distant echo being sent from another time,

To the annoyance of knowing the voice whom now seems to be unkind.

Hearing it in my mind but inside an empty, dark room,

That this person only holds the key to from my fatal doom.

As to be fallen into a box my life being made to feel trapped,

Like they have me in the grasp of their hands that I am enwrapped.

Larger in life and loud as they come,

I am made to feel small in my mind wherever it to be from.

And then they crept closer, much closer to my mind,

I never even got to grieve of when my father died.

Pushing, pushing me on and on,

To keep living this life no matter how it is wrong.

Like a dream to fulfil and reach it's destiny,

But a dream that is not my own and not knowing where to be.

Who is it for to satisfy to make me feel condemned amongst we,

Or rather to the person who roams above playing puppetry.

As I hang from a string as this person controls where I go,

Playing with my fake life and causing me to be mental as so.

Twist and turning.

I sense a plan being laid out in front,

Visualising ahead but not yet to begun.

My mind is twisting and turning, unable to decide,

Not knowing where I am going to in my life.

Somewhere at the back I say I will be okay,

But how long do I keep walking when I have nowhere to stay.

Anyone I see they have no idea who or how I am,

Just an ordinary person(?) but one who has no plan.

I place myself but not yet to settle amongst,

Those whom are around me arranging an instance.

I see on their faces they know how to be,

But I am just someone whom shall remain unhappy.

Like secretly twisting and turning the hands of fate,

One that I do not belong as to be too late.

Promises are spoken to make me think of a dream come true,

How so, when I can not even see beyond my nose let alone you.

Why do everyone else panic over my own expense,

As if they are worse off to me than any other sense.

A blank mind of thoughts that are sent for others to do,

Or are you really just trying to make me think the same way too.

Of life.

Life is not felt,

But if death is close,

Then there must be some life.

Inside this hideous body,

That some thing donates,

And forsakes.

Like tingling sensation,

Where to feel under the skin,

To feel the pain.

Yet what is foretold,

I misunderstand the meaning,

Of life.

To disobey is not of your concern,

Yet still you play me like a fool,

As to choose a life of yours is better.

Whether to prove myself,

Is uncalled for,

As to stand against you is more of a fool than ever be.

But as you are,

Finding this argument a game,

Where you believe you falsely allow me to win.

Surely more so you forgotten yourself, 

And what your purpose of today,

Is now your choice whether to live it or not.

Dad.

Within my lonely heart I did not despair, 

For I knew you will always be standing there. 

You never were that far away, 

And if I called I would hear you say. 

‘There was never a moment I would be out of thought, 

And of the joy my life had brought’. 

I never blamed you for one minute of time, 

Because there is only one chance I get to call you mine. 

I may of put on some daft act, 

And pretend I thought of you as a sad fact. 

But deep within, further depths of my heart, 

I knew for sure we were not really apart. 

I had not asked for much from you, 

I didn’t need you to try to prove. 

How I knew how you truly felt, 

If there were the correct words to say, hearts would melt. 

It is hard for me to become sad, 

Maybe this life we all lead was for keeping me glad. 

You only know what you had when it is lost, 

I may not of known what I had, but it is gone at a great cost. 

I had always called you by your rightful name. 

……DAD 

A life shared.

A life a brother and sister shared,

Always there for each other.

Showing how much we both cared,

Spending the best times together.

A gap in our lives we may of missed,

Yet still to think for.

Sending out our deepest wish,

A love to grow stronger all the more.

You may be gone from out of our lives,

Like a ray of sunshine.

Painful to be like a heart stabbed with a knife,

But always there to be in the mind.

Mother and child.

A child picks a daisy from upon the ground,

Picks another as to turn and look around.

Gentle breeze causing the hair to sway,

Flickering of eyelashes and then to walk away.

The mother standing not very far,

Smiling across to think of her child as a star.

Child holding out these daisies to hand,

An uneven bump in the ground then no longer to stand.

Bending forwards with hand out to stop,

To save oneself from having a strop.

Mother still standing over watching with glee,

Child worrying for the daisies so wish to please.

Arms held out for the mother to calm,

To walk slowly over holding out an arm.

Both they smile as a gift is at hand,

The sun beams down as to bless this land.

A moment of joy, a memory from the past,

It is how she will always be remembered forever last.

Seeing that smile upon her happy face,

From daisies to give in a heavenly grace.

Mother's day.

When I fell and hurt my knee,

You were there for me.

Comforting my pain,

All the tears went away.

To soon be back on my feet,

To play for another week.

Until I fell once again,

To learn to be a brave man.

This is what a mother can do,

How to be through and through.

Teach us what is right and wrong,

Which is why I am proud to call you my Mum…

Have a lovely Mother’s Day.

Fanny and Freddy help mummy with the hoovering.

Fanny and Freddie could not play outside today,

For it were wet, raining and wind blowing in every way.

So they stayed indoors and helped Mummy with the hoovering,

But they were both discouraged for not knowing of such doing.

Fanny went first and held the hoover to start pushing it around,

But accidentally hoovered up one of Freddie’s toy soldiers that was on the ground.

Freddy was furious, crossed his arms and went red in his face,

Thought to himself, 'you wait when it is my turn' for revengeful sake.

Apologetic Fanny gently handed over the hoover to Freddy,

'It's your turn now Freddy', as Freddy looked around for something of many.

Then Freddy spotted Fannies toy dollies spread out on the floor,

Went straight over making motorbike noises as it tangled the hair and looked for more.

Fanny stamping her feet and crying her eyes out,

'Mummy, Mummy, Freddy is misbehaving and playing about'.

Mummy comes in and notices the mess,

'For goodness sake Freddy can you not play nicely instead?'

Fanny is always seen to be an angel and sweet,

But Freddy knows that deep down she is mean indeed.

'It's not my fault' says Freddy as he bottom lip trembles,

'Fanny hoovered my toys first', as steam came out of his temples.

Now everything is calm and put back into it's place,

The hoover put away, Mummy instructs them both to go wash their face.

Before dinner is ready and to sit down and eat,

Where after they shall then go to bed to sleep.

Fanny and Freddy went to the park.

Fanny and Freddy went to the park,

They met a big dog that gave a very loud bark.

So, Fanny and Freddy held each others hands,

As Fanny said to Freddy, 'Let's run as fast as we can'.

Fanny and Freddy ran as fast as they could,

As they looked over their shoulders to see if the dog would.

To chase and follow them to see where they were going,

As they quickly hid behind a large tree that no one were knowing.

'Sssshh', said Fanny to Freddy incase the dog can hear,

As they shuffled their feet together when they saw the dog near.

'Do not let the dog see our bright yellow and pink socks',

Something they both liked to wear, lots and lots.

The dog sniffed the floor as hard as he could,

He turned his head this way and that way, then he stopped and looked.

Fanny and Freddy quickly gasped and put their hands to their mouth,

'Ah, mmmmm, mun, aargghh, ooo, weyanoma', was the only sound.

The dog neared closer to the roots of the large tree,

And Fanny and Freddy screamed very carefully.

Like a squeal but very mute and dull indeed,

As the dog sniffed very hard and even more closely.

Fanny and Freddy could not stand this anymore,

Took their hands from their mouths and looked down at the floor.

Where Fanny saw a very big stick and nudged Freddy in his side,

Pointed and said 'Throw it as far as you can before we can no longer hide'.

So Freddy picked up the big stick and looked where the dog to be,

Threw the stick as hard as he could from behind the tree.

Excited to see the stick fly far up and across in the sky,

'Yeeeeaaahh', said Fanny as she saw the dog run just as the stick went by.

'We did it, we did it, we made the dog run away' 

Jumping up and down like as to play some silly little game.

Fanny and Freddy held each others hands once more time,

As they ran again to tell their mummy of the monster they met, no lie.

Fanny and Freddy went to the seaside.

Fanny and Freddy went to the seaside,

Had Ice-Cream and made sand castles before in came the tide.

They swam in the sea and Freddy almost lost his trunks,

As Fanny rolled about laughing and in the sand her feet dunk.

'It's not funny', Freddy said, 'I almost came out naked',

'I know', Fanny said, 'and my laughter I am not faking'.

Fanny kept laughing and could not stop as she rolled about,

Freddy just sighed and held onto his trunks now being in doubt.

As Fanny kept on, Freddy walked over to her sand castle,

Stamped right through it and said, 'now how do you like it, you rascal'.

Fanny stopped suddenly and starred as she almost began to cry,

But soon as started laughing again, pointed and said, 'that's not mine'.

Freddy being puzzled and wondered how can this be,

Then realised how Fanny rolled across the sand far away, you see.

So Freddy rushed over to where Fannies clothes were,

Picked them up and ran back into the sea to get his own back on her.

Fanny screaming, 'no don't, I'm sorry I laughed'.

'If you wet my clothes I'll have nothing to wear in the car.'

But too late, Freddy ran back into the sea,

Taking Fannies clothes with him and floated they be.

Now who's laughing Freddy had thought,

As he splashed in the sea on his rubber ring he bought.

Fanny sulking, arms crossed, stamping her feet as mummy she neared,

Freddy being called to bring the clothes that were soaked, they feared. 

Fanny and Freddy went to the shops.

Fanny and Freddy went to the shops,

To buy bubble gum, fizzy drinks and lots of lollipops.

Fanny kept blowing big bubbles that popped onto her face,

Where Freddy kept burping loudly and being a disgrace.

Before they got back home Fanny blew the biggest bubble,

That Freddy decided to pop with his finger and be his usual trouble.

It covered her entire face and some stuck to her hair,

Like a wet leather cloth thrown on her face but didn't know from where.

Freddy could not stop laughing and burping and laughing again,

Until he laughed and burped so much it hurt his stomach with pain.

So Freddy held his stomach and begged for sympathy,

But Fanny was not having it as she picked off the gum slowly.

'It serves you right for being a fool', Fanny said,

'Ouch', Freddy moaned, 'I need to go to my bed'.

So no more fizzy drinks for Freddy today,

As Fanny put the rest of her bubble gum away.

If only Freddy had listened to their mummy,

She said, 'do not be greedy or you'll have an upset tummy'.

Good thing they never had their lollipops too,

Or tomorrow they would not have a thing to enjoy after school.

Janey and the cake.

Janey and the cake,

It is all she wants me to bake.

I keep telling her she will get fat,

She don't care but it is a fact.

All I want to do is show her some passion,

But its just cake she wants like a girl struck up on fashion.

I think of her dearly,

But if it is just cake then it may become sincerely.

Have a slice on a plate,

Once you tried this it's a date.

Dusted with icing sugar to make it sweet,

Sink your teeth into like a cloud for a seat.

Strawberry jam and butter cream,

In-between sponge, to eat is a dream.

Janey just keeps telling me,

I say, 'If you eat anymore you won't have a lovely bummy'.

Humpty dumpty.

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall,

Humpty Dumpty is not happy at all.

So all the seamen went out in their ships,

To put Humpty back together by his hips.

And now Humpty is all back together again,

All the seamen came home to land.

Just incase it happens once more,

And the tide do not wash them ashore.

For when you are out at sea,

The whole of the moon makes it all wavy.

Rocking it here, rocking it there,

That's why half of Humpty ended up elsewhere.

So every time you see Humpty on that wall,

Remember all those out to sea and all.

And hopefully they all come home again,

To see the whole of the moon and then.

Road to Hell.

Hey you with the brown eyes,

You have a demon in your heart to despise.

But be careful with what you say,

Or that demon will be on his way.

Naughty but nice he will approach,

For then you will surely dote.

Forever to be taken into his arms,

And fall into darkness and be evilly charmed.

But darkness falls it do not stop there,

For the worst to happen is be burnt down there.

When you believe to being good it's actually a trick,

To drag you down further and be slashed and whipped.

A light at the end of the tunnel they do foretell,

But which light do you prefer, there is also one down in hell.

See blue can be seen for something cold,

Even if the colours are prettier and bold.

So wouldn't you rather stay warm,

Even if it takes a thousand stings by a swarm.

As it is true with what someone did tell,

Good intentions are paved along the road to hell.

But do not be tempted to turn bad,

For you will forever become sad.

Life is for living and not to be forgot,

So grab everyday as it comes and remember the lot. 

Red riding hood.

Little Red Riding Hood,

Took her daily walk through the woods.

Only this time she met a big bad wolf,

However, Little Red Riding Hood fell in love.

So, Little Red Riding Hood ripped his heart out,

Noticing just then all the other wolves that were about.

Red Riding Hood didn’t care if the big bad wolf was not alone,

She had hold of his heart now and took him home.

The other wolves had followed carefully behind,

As Red Riding Hood reached a cabin that were not quite in line.

The windows were hanging off from its' frames,

And the door creaked like it was in great pain.

Red Riding Hood entered with the wolf following dopily inclined,

As the other wolves caught up and realised their bad wolf is not fine.

So they waited and watched all night looking within,

As Red Riding Hood and the wolf had dined and were laughing.

Until the other wolves finally had enough,

Broke through the windows of a cabin revoltingly smelling of love.

Red Riding Hood screamed and ran and tried to get away,

But too late, the wolves teeth had sunk into her and blood all other the place.

The spell had been broken and the bad wolf came too,

Realising what happened and feeling like a fool.

He suddenly ate Little Red Riding Hoods heart out,

And they all ran to the woods where forever they are about.

*Moral of the story*

Careful whom you meet alone your way,

There is always someone to steal your heart.

Not worrying whom they capture from,

And the feelings they damage back home.

Creepy eve.

Creepy, creepy is the way Eve goes,

"Come children, come and show".

Into the woods she seeks to find,

A lonely child to take for her as mine.

Carrying a wooden basket in her arm,

She picks an apple from a tree to place in a palm.

"Lovely juicy apple for you my child",

"Come, come, there is more if you come in from the mild".

Appearing a child cold, wet, causing clothes to be damp,

"Come home to the warm fire, here carry my lamp".

Deeper still passing many more trees,

Eve places a hand on the sticky sap left by a bee.

"Quickly child I can not see",

"Bring the lamp and eat the apple near me".

Sniffling nose and quickly pacing up the step,

Munching on the apple of a distraction the child had kept.

"There is plenty more if you follow me",

"Quickly, quickly, we do not want anymore children to see".

Reaching a wooden shack steeping up a hill,

Creaking steps to a porch with dead flowers on a window sill.

Inside Eve beckons the child to follow,

As the door creaks even more so being hollow.

Just as the child eats the apple to the core,

Peers inside wanting another apple and more.

"Come in, come in I can feel a draft",

Child steps in slowly as Eve gives a small laugh.

Grabs the child’s shoulder and pushes in further,

Slams door shut, an apple on floor to step over.

"Let's get your wet clothes off and to the chair you sit",

Pinning the socks over the fire place in need to be lit.

Gently peeping over her shoulder Eve sends a pleasant smile,

"Child how will you like to play with some toys for a while?"

From the back of the room Eve drags a heavy box,

Opens slowly to reveal a toy horse, bird and red fox.

The child sits on the floor wearing a long t-shirt and cap,

Playing with some toys as Eve peels more apples over her lap.

Rocking to and fro Eve sings a lovely tune,

Tears slowly flowing down her cheek something making her blue.

"Sleeeeep tight, Sleeeeeep well tonight, my baby sleeping,"

"Mummy’s here, my song can you hear, my baby dreaming".

Eve moves slowly over to the child on the floor,

"Here is another apple my child, it's all yours".

"Soon Daddy will be home my child for you",

"But first my child to bed you go soon".

Off to bed the child did go,

With a kiss on Eves cheek with a glare in her eye so.

"Sweet dreams my child I'll see you tomorrow",

"Where to bed myself I shall to follow".

Into bed the child leapt,

Just as a creaking sound outside met.

Heavy boots and trailing sweep,

Daddy brings home a tree to keep.

A blow of cold wind enters the shack,

Door swings open and snow I see on Daddies back.

Eve swiftly glides across the floor,

Straight into Daddies arms to kiss and more.

The axe makes a heavy thud,

As Daddy places it standing up.

Against the wall under the window,

Eve takes his coat and whistles to sing so.

'Boom,,, boom' the boots went,

As Daddy walks over to the fire for the tree meant.

Child gazing over the bed sheets,

When Eve grabs the axe and her eyes meet.

Starts to chop the tree into small logs,

And Daddy clears the old dust making smog.

Now child begins to become scared,

Jumps out of bed and runs as dared.

Eve grabs the child by the arm,

"Where you going my child back to bed and be calm".

Daddy sees the child and cheekily grins,

Looks at Eve and gratefully likes what she brings.

"No, no, not to go back to bed",

"Eve let the child stay up and play instead".

Eve knows exactly what he means,

"Yes, yes" and her eyes brightly beams.

Daddy grabs the big heavy toy box,

Opens and shoves the child in and sits on top.

Screams and bangs the child kicks,

Eve laughs and places the logs on to sticks.

Lights the fire and places a cauldron on the hook,

To begin to boil the water and the table she looks.

Daddy stands up and the toy box quickly opening,

Turns and slaps the child to stop the moaning.

Eve begins her lovely tune again,

Peeling vegetables and looks to Daddy for when.

Daddy grabs the child by the hair,

Pulls child up and dangles in the air.

"Look Eve, just like a caught rabbit from the muck",

"Shall we cut the foot off first for good luck"?

Eve continues her lovely tune and sways,

Looks over at Daddy to nudge towards where the axe stays.

Daddy throwing child down to the floor,

Still screaming and kicking making such noise once more.

"Now stay still for Daddy my child",

"This wont hurt or take a long while".

You see Eve had lost her own child many years ago,

And ever since has sworn revenge on any child they take home.

The axe rises up over Daddies head,

Child looking up in fear and knows is to be dead.

Quickly it falls and hits the floor,

Separating a foot from the child and blood pours.

The pain is too much to even cry,

Wishing now the child will want to die.

Suffering is the worst in its kind,

Like hanging on to dear life as much to in the mind.

Eve whistles her tune and moves over to grab the foot from the floor,

Pushes the child’s hair back and yanks the head back to make child look at the door.

"You can not run from Daddy and me now"

"Will you like to go back to bed but first we must clean up your gown".

Crying the child with shivering bottom lip,

Takes one evil stare at Eve and to her face, spit.

"Chop it off, now" Eve screams to her Daddy.

Again the axe falls to the floor and Eve takes the head to carry.

Water boiling and vegetable now peeled,

Eve peels the skin back and throws away the foots heel.

Into the cauldron the foot and head is placed,

Thrown in some vegetables and salt to taste.

Daddy begins to chop the rest of the body up,

As Eve grabs each bit by bit and throws into a bath tub.

Pouring hot water over to wash away any blood,

Where she peels the skin off and hears another thud.

Daddy finished and placed the axe back against the wall,

To then sit on the toy box and his head to his hands fall.

Now all is done and revenge is taken place,

Their lost child is now free again to show his face.

Eve places the child’s flesh into the boiling water,

Stirring it abit so not to faultier.

Daddy looking up so to see something not quite there,

Reaches out his hand with a look on his face so to care.

Eve comforts him and knows what he sees,

"Daddy, we must let him go, can you, please".

Crying heavier Daddy nods his head,

Eve and Daddy stand and place toy box back under the bed.

Walking over to the cauldron Eve checks on their meal,

Stirs it again and notices the meat coming away from the bone still.

Daddy places the plates on the table,

As Eve clears out the bones so to eat is unable.

Secretly hidden in the wall of the fire place,

A box to store all the bones they commemorate.

Now dishing up with a ladle,

Brings the food for Daddy to the table.

Enough to eat for days to come,

As Eve begins to sing her lovely tune now they are done. 

Santa Claus.

Very soon Santa Claus will be coming to town,

How he comes down the chimney makes everyone frown.

Traditionally his belly is from eating all the mince pies,

But in my version it is where he ate all the children he despise.

So kids grab your blankets and do not make a sound,

Maybe try hiding under your bed before Santa comes around.

Stay very quiet and keep calm and still,

If Santa finds you it wont be the snow that gives a chill.

We all thought it was elves that were Santa’s little helpers,

But in my version it is children whom are only in their diapers.

Making them slave over each night and day,

Piecing the toys together with small hammers they sway.

And, just before they grow too big,

Santa throws them in the fire to eat like some pig.

Like candy and Ice-Cream for a treat,

Santa’s toys entice the kids for him to keep.

So next time you get a toy for Christmas,

Just remember how they are made for instance.

For one day this toy may cause you to be like them,

Kidnapped by Santa to be his helping slave for Christmas again.

Like those small wooden tool sets you get,

It could be the start of work as one of Santa’s pet.

So forget leaving out a glass of milk, mince pie and a carrot,

Because Rudolf and Santa will have you in a cage like a parrot.

Christmas time is such a magical time,

Wondering how Santa grabs the kids and has them in line.

Where the reindeers become wolves and whips them into shape,

Making them work hard to never be let back out of hells gate.

Beyond the realms.

(It describes how it feels to sit there alone, doing nothing. Basically, you start to listen to the inner self of your mind.

Sometimes emptiness, others doors or passages of thoughts that you go through. 

The puzzles to stop you going insane.) 

I see beyond the realms of what is in front of my eyes,

My mind is a temple, opened for me to see inside.

There are passages leading you to small different worlds,

Behind each door you open another story is foretold.

A labyrinth, a maze or a corridor,

Call it what you want, for there are plenty more.

In each corner and bend I can see,

Letters forming words and words that I speak.

It is not a puzzle nor is it a game,

It is to keep me here or I go insane.

The pieces all fall into place,

I just listen with concentration upon my face.

Sometimes the pattern keeps shifting in time,

Like a puzzle box that also sings and rhymes.

It is not a question of what is in hell,

It is a fact of being under ones spell.

Like chained to a wall there is no escape,

But I try to run away for goodness sake.

Fear not as it not of pure evil,

It is more of an antidote to make it not so lethal.

Do I turn left, or do I turn right,

Either way these walls are tall in height.

Like reaching up to the clouds in the sky,

But there is no way I can climb up that high.

I see a ruins not far up ahead,

A church, a castle, is it a place for a bed.

But this maze keeps me going all day and all night,

I must reach this ruins and not give up the fight.

For there is a star shining brightly on top of its tower,

A warm gleam of light that seems to hold so much power.

Some day I will reach this shining bright thing,

And then my life will surely begin.

Demonic angels.

In the morning day break,

As the sun arises,

Listen very carefully.

Within the sound the birds will make,

You will hear some surprises,

For what will be is other than you see.

In amongst the squeaking,

And the flapping of the wings,

You will realise what will hurry back to me.

The sound of demonic angels talking,

Although with wings that fairies brings,

They hide in the bushes playfully.

For these are no bigger than your hand,

With wings shaped like butterflies,

But with teeth sharp to bleed.

The sun light they can not withstand,

Otherwise they burn and dies,

Only at night they are to be freed.

Playing in the night garden,

Picking roses gone black,

To hand out to we.

But before you say pardon,

Do not give the roses back,

For by morning they shall be.

If you're lucky in the day,

Hiding in the shadows,

Where dust trickles on the sunlight.

Before you even get to say,

It's where these demonic angels goes,

They had come to see you alright.

Poe.

The stairways to heaven are not always what they seem,

When you could be going up you could be going down to see Him.

Him, being the one who we think of as whom,

But, really who is the one who sends you to your doom?

The story be told of a fallen angel,

But I really know how that is a fable.

If it were thought of us all being good,

Then who would of punished us if we were in a mood*.

I see Him as someone and not a thing,

But someone I can not see whatever he shall bring.

I sense him, enormously right under my feet,

I try not to torment him but treat him sweet.

I write these poems and sing him songs,

Or, is it from him and am I thinking wrong.

He gives me love that I feel without,

A warm grasp on my heart and a sense that he is about.

But is he really as someone we think of as bad,

The way I see Him in this life we should be glad.

Just think of all those little things,

No matter how small he surely brings.

*mood - as to be miserable and feel bad

3.

Pan the man who is strong and can move any rock,

Is at one with nature and has a nice cock.

Pie the eye who sees all,

Has psychic visions, is a joker and stands tall.

Poe the Oh who speaks and listens to many puzzles and words,

Sometimes in riddles or backwards but never absurd.

Now do you see how Pan is not the one,

Although one of the devils but full of cum.

And Pie can see anything, even invisible ink,

There are 'books of shadows' but be quick do not blink.

Poe, oh Poe, whom speaks such beauty,

In rhyme or song and is such a cutey.

Pan, Pie and Poe have changed their ways and turned about,

They use to be full of anger but we wont speak of without a doubt.

Different but still remain the same,

The anger had become envy amongst them all and made them vain.

Or, is it because they can not work their magic apart,

Need to be close together as one beating heart.

I believe they all use to work enchanting spells,

Like three witches whom worked in hell.

But now this dark magic is no longer at use,

For love is taken over and will not stand such abuse.

Devil come calling.

I walk through this pathway with over grown shrubs,

With the sound of flowing water and a path of concrete stubs.

Foliage concealing the entrance to this paradise,

With the sense of hell beneath me that eyes see through my life.

Such beauty and passion as I take this stroll,

But with the fear of meeting an ugly troll.

As the stale smell of drainage enters my lungs,

I am walking above a dream of the night below that begun.

Wonderful it seems when coming close to your death,

As the devil to meet will shock me of my breath.

The path I take has no woes of what I leave behind,

And the path a Devil leads takes me to another life.

Fright night.

In this life of goodness and strife,

There is one vision I see in my life.

For the vision is easy to tell,

But only if you also seen the visions of hell.

What is seen with the mind seems ok,

But the vision behind is something not day.

When darkness falls the shadows come out,

And deeper within the evil is about.

But the only fear you shall need to have,

Is this darkness will pull you in before you go mad.

To silence your life with immortal hell,

To wander in the night and cause a chill.

Creepy as they come when they come out to play,

In search for light hoping to stay.

So next time you go out on a dark night,

Beware of what is around the corner to give you a fright.

The past still exists.

I been fortified within these walls for many of years,

The threat outside is not quite so clear.

We once lived safely out in openness,

But to secure ourselves in from the bloody mass.

Now no one enters nor leaves,

Anything wanted we have when in need.

Outside is misty, mild and dark,

The sounds of howling echoes through the trees bark.

Flaming torches are erected up high,

To warn off the bats that come flying by.

It has become a battle set in hell,

We pray for no one to fall unwell.

Watchmen are on post all day and all night,

No one is afraid anymore of the screams heard but not in sight. 

Time passing has made sure of this,

Our lives adapted to an insecure feeling of the past we miss.

The only moving moment to be made outside,

Is through the tunnel to the dock for more stock to survive.

Attempts are made upon our worried soul,

From visiting at the gates with offering for morsel.

Our watchmen are not the only ones keeping an open eye,

Are they creatures, demons although they learnt to spy.

It started when a woodsman found a damsel in distress,

Fainted heartily, weak and bleeding from her neck.

A bite from an animal as to savage her flesh,

Yet still alive as she is carried in his arms looking a mess.

Then men began to vanish with no clue where to be,

With searches high and low reports back of shadows seen briskly.

News travelled from afar of another town gone down in flames,

Where they fought off vultures but in the shape of not humane.

Stories are told of many losing their lives,

Even those whom travelled to spread word for to survive.

The women, children and men were preyed upon,

To them it never mattered as long as they had a source to live long.

Once thought how water was our safest bet,

Thinking how they can not swim to reach close if met.

Under darkness in black capes while holding burning torches,

To hide in the shadows and fire to warn off any unwanted causes.

No one are allowed to walk along any paths,

We trade via ship hoping each day shall pass.

Our lives are now set deep within stone,

Enough to accommodate everyone with their own home.

Bishops bless the walls and grounds,

Making it holy so no evil thing can pound.

Occasionally they come knocking at the main gate,

Trying to pass by as a poor soul to meet their fate.

But we learnt the difference between the living and dead,

By tormenting their senses with raw meat hung behind but to not fed.

Their pupils in their eyes widen with hunger,

Sniffing the air like an aromatic spell to be under.

Their mouths slightly open with drawling phlegm,

Even more eager to enter as they wish to prey on more men.

A wooden stake is fired towards their heart,

Like a poisoned arrow they fall back and depart.

If need be for someone with more strength,

We add fire to burn away their only incense.

We built the walls as tall as a tree,

And as wide as a town to let us all be.

But new ways were attempted for us to meet our doom,

As the blood thirst tried to climb or fly over as seen at loom.

The bark is worse than their bite,

So too the teeth from the wings in flight. 

To know they are there is more worrying to me,

But with many men watching at the ready I sense slightly free.

Until that day when the walls can come crashing down,

For us to live once again freely upon the ground.

For now we are entombed in this state of being,

Being close at death with fear of what we are seeing. 

How life has turned out is unsure for why,

To put fear of God in us all to have the need to survive.

Keep life moving and the world turning around,

To this day it cost the blood spilt across the ground. 

Unfortunately our faith had failed us dear,

On a night I slept to be suddenly awoke with a crash I hear.

Screams for shock were heard in every place,

As I look around at everyone running in haste.

Several men rush to towards the tunnel,

With flaming torches, swords and looks for muddle.

Shouts of a ghost ship come sailing in to port,

Deserted and steered itself to crash and bring down the fort.

Our records show for no ship to set dock,

Puzzled as we look to know why it had not stopped.

A ship not quite of the usual trade,

More for battle with the canons at play.

We send a few men on to deck,

Creepy as the sound of their footsteps on the floor they met.

'No sign of crew up on here' I am spoke to,

Then silence came from the men of few.

The rest of us stepped back to the walls,

Knowing something is not right with this ship of fools.

Our strength at the ready for any suddenness,

We cross our hearts and hope to be blessed.

A quick burst of something flies out of the woodwork,

Come down towards us and took out some men without hearing them hurt.

Under attack we are but they found another way,

They hijacked a ship and led it astray.

This kingdom, this haven, this home is now to meet its doom,

Blood spilt upon the foundations that once kept it a safe room.

It only took the one to find a way in,

To slaughter as many to send us on a brim.

We fought for long but it were not enough,

As they knew where to strike to let in more of their rough.

The gates were fallen and the way opened,

With a river of blood flowing from the dead like an omen. 

There were nowhere to run nor anywhere to hide,

With the wolves roaming in the forest and the blood thirst inside.

A battle of good and evil,

As I stay hidden in the highest steeple.

As the days and nights pass us by,

The hunger for food got the better as I slowly died.

To this day where the ruins are still remained,

The steeple conceals the skeleton of my living remains.

Death comes to us all.

It comes creeping in at sometime with us all,

But we never know until we then stumble and fall.

Like dark shadows enwrapping us around our minds,

Slowly picking away our life to the ticking of time.

In any way it can grab hold of you tight,

There is no letting go now even with a chance to fight.

The thought of knowing it being there,

You become vulnerable and seek somewhere to take care.

Even through the walls it appears slowly,

Climbing and rising eventually uncontrollably.

Whereat you see the deathly long fingers,

Trying to tear through the gap as your mind lingers.

Though you see a light shining through,

Only to pass you must confront death to go to.

Your heart suddenly stops as you fear for your life,

A shock to your system with no choice to survive.

Life was.

Many, many years of now,

So much stories are told of how.

How the earth was made to the extinction of dinosaurs,

And the stars and planets discovered that made such cause.

But never one told in a such memorable way,

Like the story of love and how almost it went a stray.

Oceans were smaller and land much wider,

Sweethearts seeing one another from across the water.

Waving hands to greet one and another whom dote,

Desperate measures taken in building bridges and boats.

Magical places when trekked far and yonder,

Like icicle palaces and fruits that make you wonder.

Though the land was of bigger size,

Everything was more closer and life had a bigger stride.

But tragically then one day,

The oceans rose and much became washed away.

The love had died and everyone parted,

And the fight for survival had then started.

The future.

There was a massive explosion that smashed through the worlds atmosphere,

Turning the Moon red, causing the oceans to boil and everyone on earth scared.

Slowly life was changing as greenery burned up, waters went dry and people dying,

Food was scarce, land was disappearing and the clouds no longer for crying.

Technology became the only way to cleanse the germs, pain and sorrow,

As every humankind got together to save the world for another tomorrow.

Buildings made of metal and toughened glass with filtered air and water,

As the past turned to dust and blew away in the wind, no longer bricks and mortar.

Covering land with waves of sand like the Sahara desert but the colour of planet mars,

Lesser transport as the power reused from the engines of trains, planes and cars.

Nuclear waste became power source like fluid gunge flowing through veins,

Cameras as devices to warn of any germs or parasites that may cause danger again.

The media, entertainment and authority appeared in a hologram vision,

With Robocop’s for enforcement if you fail to comply with the main computer system.

Evolution was evolving from gas combustion and germs in dead bodies that lay around,

Like dinosaurs roaming the earth again only this time a whole new playground.

Weapons were increased with more power with sensor computerised lasers,

To automatically notice these deadly life forms so to be zapped and be out phased.

All remaining living humans had to be tagged and kept to their own locations,

Any unknown movements are registered and then to be dealt with in any situation.

Space travel became vast so to seek out new life to live and survive,

But as we learnt more so did evolution and gave us a more of a bigger fight.

The world became a ball of just dust with some puddles for water,

To get around and survive is on foot, buggy or in a people tanker.

Giant domes like enclosed cities were places for us to stay,

Like boils formed on the earths surface but never to go away. 

Evolution still was evolving as we fought to live and carry on,

This was not the future, nor the past but all combined together as one.

Fog.

The dense fog was like a wall of smoke at my window so I can not see out,

I can hear voices of people outside trying to find their way about.

Sometimes dark forms of shadows would float by like flying in the clouds,

Surprising as they appeared before me I gasp and wait without a sound.

To some it seems like a game where others in their voice of fear,

Fear of being lost forever and never to be found out here.

I hear people scream and gasp with each other when they brush past,

And every now and then a sigh with 'how long is this going to last'?

To watch the fog form swirls patterns right there for me to see,

I worry for those already out there and stand listening very carefully.

And, I open my door to stand outside ready to grab someone as they walk by,

Like ships floating on water slowly, as I hook and steer it in to the docks it lie.

But no one seems to be heading towards me where I live,

Even the sound of voices have faded, that the people give.

Dare I head out there too, all by myself,

To hunt those already lost and bring back to health.

This fog is so thick, as I hold up my hand in front of my face,

Not even to see my fingers wiggle a foot or two in space.

And then this hand grabbed my arm and took me by surprise,

To let out a little scream and wonder in fear for my life.

And then suddenly I find myself being pulled further out of my door,

To be shoved out of the way so the hand can stand where I am no longer more.

I can just see a manly shadow walk inside of my home,

Closing the door behind him and the light no longer there to roam.

I am now out here amongst this heavy dense fog,

A voice to be heard outside of my window of a cabin made of logs.

Worried and lost as I am dragged deeper into the fear,

The fear of not being found forever while out here.

Spot on my nose.

All I ever wanted was to be of such beauty,

Elegance, grace and a handsome man to suit me.

I awoke one morning with a spot on my nose,

I pleaded with people to help me let it go.

To then be told of a witch living in the tower,

Whom casts spells and magical potions that hold great power.

I asked of the way to this witches home address,

Past the grave yard, through the valley and a tower of mountainousness.

Made of skulls and bones that took many of years,

On completion a throne for you to rest your tiresome wares.

Doubtful I to be and thoughtful for long,

But this spot on my nose I really want gone.

I took up the courage and headed on out,

Seeing mist in the graveyard is enough to make anyone scream and shout.

I continued on through the valley where trees and flowers are grown,

But in each step they begin to die and look solemn where I feel alone.

Too far now to turn and run back to my place of bed,

The risk I am to take back home I shall let it be said.

'How far a person will go to feel and look much better',

'How brave of I to venture out and to endeavour'.

Sudden darkness surrounds my whereabouts,

Like shadows forming to embrace and never let out.

I reach the bottom of grim looking stairs,

The skulls used to make them even look scared.

With pitiful eyes and mouths opened wide,

To make dark lonely screams just before they died.

I nervously lift my leg to make my first step,

Worried of someone or something hearing me as my toes have now led.

My hand trembles as I grab the banister made of bones from arms and legs,

Creepy as it is but to think for my beautiful face that I am about to beg.

I suddenly hear motion coming from up above where a light shines,

Haggled and breathless I hear a voice, 'who comes' as to whine.

Nervously I speak out and how brave of I,

'I'm told of your magic, I really do not mean to pry'.

Muffling sound with a decision to make,

The witch speaks again, 'well what is it you want for goodness sake'.

'Please, can you help me I have this spot on my nose',

'No one else can help me and it really must go'.

I hurried up some more stairs forgetting of my fear,

As then the witch beckons me to come near.

'Brave as you are and to come here just for your face',

'Are you sure a love potion will not do instead of its place'.

'No one will notice this growth on your nose',

'Fallen in love with you is how this potion goes'.

I thought for a moment as I looked around,

Open lit fire with cauldron, candles burning and a crow that makes no sound.

The witch arched over her cauldron as she adds a few ingredients,

Bats wing, frogs legs and a spider she stirs in without any disobedience.

The witch throws in a small pinch of salt,

A puff of smoke and the room suddenly smells of malt.

She grabs a small glass bottle from off the shelf,

Using a wooden ladle she fills, hands me the bottle and wishes me good health.

With her back turned to me she waives her hand to the table,

Before I place some pieces of gold, I wish to speak but feel unable.

I am wanting to ask if this shall remove the spot on my nose,

The witch continues with herself adding more ingredients as she goes.

Trusting myself with what I have hold in my hands,

I look upon the opened door and peer across the darkened land.

Placing some gold onto the table top just as I leave,

The witch then mumbles and says, 'shut the door behind you will you please'.

I stand at the top of the stairs looking down at the bottle of potion,

I slowly twist the cork to open with every step of motion.

Half way down the stairs and the cork pops open in my hand,

Green, blue, purple smoke trails out with sparkling glitter like sand.

There is no going back now the moment I drink this substance,

I take a deep breath and the bottle reaches my lips with no nonsense.

The magical potion smoothly slides down my throat,

Causing a warm sensation in my stomach and my mind afloat.

I feel my eyes light up and all around now seems alive,

Even the dead foliage from before now seems to thrive.

I hum a delightful tune as I walk further towards home,

But then I feel my toes to curl up and my mouth feels with foam.

From a distance I hear the hackle laughter of the witch,

Echoing down the valley she speaks, 'there is just one hitch'.

'The spot on your nose will surely disappear',

'But in its place will become a monster everyone to fear'.

Hair grows out of my skin and my ears become pointed,

My legs bend inwards and toenails long that anyone will be disappointed.

My hands turn into claws and my teeth become sharp,

The potion has turned me into a hideous monster that’s crawled out of the dark.

With eyes opened wide looking upon with worry and fear,

I hear the witch, 'come now my pretty one, come back here'.

I nearly made it out of the valley when in the graveyard a tomb stone appears,

Written upon, 'a spotted nose girl now lies here'.

My fate has been tested and my trust has been broken,

I am now a hideous monster under command of the witch that be spoken.

All I wanted was the spot on my nose be gone,

But my patience had the better of me for love that I never won.

Red roses at night.

Have you ever taken a look out into the night garden,

Where the roses are prettier and the scent needs no pardon?

The shadows of the night makes the roses stand out,

As they untwine and reach for light that is not about.

The moon shine above causing a silver lining on the leaves,

Where the dust has settled even in the midnight cool breeze.

And the colours seem darker out there in the back,

Even the red roses are looking more black.

So next time someone brings you red roses at night,

Remember the night garden and have no cause for fright.

For it is only where the demons play,

Picking red roses as the colours had fade.

For by next morning when you awake,

The red roses will be heavenly goodness sake.

You will notice how really they are dark scarlet,

So deep down within they still have a heart.

Mirror of darkness.

The keys had been handed over and the rent is agreed,

From this day on I now have a new home in a house to be.

The keyhole was abit stubborn taking a few twists with the wrist,

Eventually decided to open as I pushed the door that I also had to insist.

The place isn't really that big but it will do for me,

As the saying, 'won't swing a cat in it', but it will keep me off the streets.

I can just see the sunlight coming through the crack of the old curtains,

Hanging there looking sorry for themselves down they come for certain.

So I grab them and pull them off from their hanging rail,

Smelling old and mildew as they leave this very long cobweb for a trail.

Also a puff of dust like a smoke bomb suddenly fills the air,

Covering my clothes, my face and sticking to my long hair.

Like an old leather jacket the curtains flump in a heap to the floor,

Appearing a beam of fluffy light as I open the windows to breathe even more.

I then check the lights to make sure the electric is working fine,

So too the taps for the water or I wont be living in here for some time.

So far so good, everything seems to be working okay,

Until I put my foot through the wooden flooring and my ankle I sprained.

So much for happy beginnings or are they to be for the end,

My ankle do not look good I best get it checked incase it needs to be amend.

So I grab my mobile phone and seek for medical advise,

Thankfully the doctor is local so will be here before tonight.

I look in a couple of the bags I brought in with me from the car,

For something of good use to clean and wrap my ankle in before it badly scar.

I seem to be okay as I manage to still walk around,

Gently doing it so not to place too much pressure down.

In the house there is a lot more that needs to be checked over,

First of all where do I sleep for the night and to place my covers.

I had noticed an old sofa left behind in the front room,

The same room with the curtains and the dust that made it gloom.

But judging from earlier is it a decent place to lay my head,

When just as I enter another room yet cleaner, a king size for a bed.

How can one room through-out the entire dirty place remain,

Untouched by dust and old age even the sheets on the bed are clean and plain.

Sensing life in the room like the bed is breathing the same clear air,

Curtains hanging freely, painted walls and dressing table with mirror to look fair.

Like walking through a vortex in the door into another place and time,

This vision is unreal, how it is placed in a home I am now unsure of being mine.

I stand at the doorway and gaze with wonder and the feeling of exciting,

When suddenly a knock at the door brings my mind back to now and reality.

I close the door to this room of a place for a new world,

It will be my little secret and no one else to tell.

As I hear the doctor walk in and call out for me,

I slowly walk over and ask of my ankle for him to see.

Sadly having to sit on the old sofa for a seat,

He unwraps the bandages I made as I listen to my own heartbeat.

'It's fine' he says, 'no cuts just a small graze',

'Slight bruising on the flesh', to then ask 'how long you staying in this place'?

Thinking of my secret hidden room and the joy I can have,

I replied with, 'a year or two or even longer than that'.

In need of some decorating we both agreed with,

As he told me his name and just a few houses down he do live.

Having cleansed and soothed my injured ankle with clean bandages and cream,

If ever he were in need of again invited me to his home, upon a look with esteem.

Thanking him and showing him out of the door,

To then look back towards the room I dream of forever more.

But the doctor called back just then as I were to walk away,

'I forgot to tell you of a room in this place that you should never in stay'.

'It is an illusion of a haunting from the previous homeowners of many years ago',

'The room of a still born child that my ancestors cared for, did you not know'?

To then he went away leaving me just his business card,

"Doctor Jones. A company handed down in the years, by far".

'Illusion of a haunting' I wondered curiously on with,

But I saw it clearer than day that the sunlight shall give.

Hurrying back to the secret room I had once saw,

I took a deep breath, hand on handle and waited at the door.

Slower than ever I opened the door out wide,

As I notice the room like everywhere else in this house, to my surprise.

Dirty black walls, scummy windows and dust laid everywhere worn,

There is a bed but dismantled with a broken leg and a mattress that’s torn.

I close my eyes and shake my head for a few seconds there and then,

How can this be, I want to see that new place for a world again.

Then in the distance as to echo through the walls,

I hear a slight crying of a baby and notice an old wooden stool.

Placed near to the bed for someone to sit with whoever in the bed laid,

I now begin to wonder of the haunting as I did hear a cry in an unknown way.

Debating whether to walk further in or close the door,

The wooden stool starts to rock gently on its legs on the floor.

Panic rising inside of my heart, eyes and mind,

Even though I walk further into the room without looking behind.

The wooden stool rocks even harder as I near,

As to beckon me over and take a seat but I fear.

The door to this room slowly closes with a creak,

I turn to run but my injured foot falls through flooring that were weak.

Too late I am now shut inside of this old haunted of a room,

Even in more pain than before and frightened of my doom.

I try to scream for help but the crying baby makes more of a sound,

My voice drowned out so for not anyone to hear whom may be around.

The wooden stool suddenly stops itself rocking on the floor,

The baby no longer crying just as sunlight beams in through once more. 

The dust vanishes and the room becomes again that dream world,

Only this time, in the bed I see a very young ill health girl.

A maiden sitting on the wooden stool with head bowed on the side of the bed,

With a tiny born baby laying at the end looking rather dead.

The ill health girl points over towards the dressing table,

To instruct me to look, I do as I see our reflections like a drawing to a fable.

As I then to see the bedroom door open with the doctor peering his head in,

Only as I turned around there was no open door, no doctor, nothing.

It was the reflection in the mirror that made it seem so,

To realise, I was inside of that mirror looking out at life I no longer know.

                  *********************

The doctor placed notes of a missing woman around town,

Her disappearance is astonishing and causes too much of a frown.

As years went by the woman was never to be seen again,

Though stories in the paper of sightings of her in a mirror reflection with them.

The house remained empty and no one moved in of late,

The doctor never gave up the hunt for her as he listed every date.

Then one day a surprising phone call suddenly came through,

A housewife witnessed an unknown phenomena that involved this missing woman too;

                  *********************

" One day pottering around as I did my usual house chores,

I heard a cracking, tapping sound coming through the walls.

Looking around to see where from it to be coming,

The cracking, tapping heard above the hoover that were humming.

And then it happened right there where I stood,

Dark and horrific and as loud as it could.

Like a heavy sharp tool being hit against glass,

Then I realised, it were the mirror that hung by the vase.

But when I looked at my reflection it were only I who appeared,

Yet, something else happened to be there that caused me to fear.

I stopped what I were doing and turned the hoover off,

Stood waited and listened with only in my hand the dusting cloth.

Is it there waiting, looking in at me,

Whatever it is I believe it wants to break free.

So bravely, I stood looking at myself and said 'Hello',

Then this sudden dark shadow of a movement moved to and fro.

Shocked as I were I took in a deep heavy gasp,

And quickly removed all that to be around including the vase.

So all that was left was me and the mirror on the wall,

I was ready and waiting for yet again to call.

'Hello, who is it that I see there',

Suddenly the dark shadow had completely appeared.

Like a form of deep dark black smoke,

I was now in fear as the shadow moved but not spoke.

The shadow then picked up what seemingly were to be a sharp tool,

Thrusting towards the mirror as again the cracking, tapping, this time I was not fooled.

The mirror broke into small segments of sharp, broken pieces of glass,

But had the dark shadow escaped from inside the mirror and completed its task."

                   **********************

After this revelation it's apparent the papers stories were real after all,

As more sightings of this woman appeared in mirrors though she not looking fair at all.

Descriptions of darkly, empty black shadows screaming to get out,

As the mirrors break in pieces to leave segments of glass about.

So I grabbed a mirror of my own and tried to call her to appear,

Amazing how she did only to leave my mirror intact and clear.

But written on the glass a message to come home,

I were already at mine so it must be hers of years ago.

I rushed out of my door and jumped into my car,

Heading towards the old house that this woman once lived not very far.

I did not need a key as the door was off its hinge,

The cold, empty chill that went through the place made me cringe.

A candle burns in the centre of a dark room,

Causing a circular of flickering light illuminating ones tomb.

The pages of a book is left open mid-way,

Someone had been here from the evidence on the table they lay.

The smell of burning wax fills the air,

The soft breeze through the opened door turns the pages here and there. 

The book is of verses to some ritual sect,

Something wrong is going on inside of this derelict.

The building is dark with no decor,

There is no paintwork and the dampness is raw.

The sound of dripping water shows a leaking roof,

As I climb the stairs with a creaking sound in every move.

Before I reach the top I see a dark shadow run by,

Man, woman or child, it were too quick for my eye.

I see ahead a rotten door closed to ajar,

With the moonlight shining through a window I see from afar.

And then the dark shadow again reappears,

Hiding in a corner, giggling I see as I near.

I gently open the rotted door with one hand,

Slowly listening to every sound.

Then the sound from an old woman of a voice,

'Do not come any closer or no longer will you remorse'.

'For your heart will grow cold and forever be dark',

'And resent all those that comes close to leave their mark'.

Curiously I wonder on for more,

As I enter the moonlit room and now a closed door.

Too fast for me to turn and run, out flew the dark shadow,

Empty, black, nothing, that I saw when the distance became narrow.

And my heart had stopped as I felt darkness in my own eyes,

As my own life had been absorbed into something I once despised.

Forever now I am in total darkness and hate,

To all those that come near and stay before it is too late.

Mirror of darkness II - 'Darkness roams.'

The dark shadow pulled me in,

A black form of someone I knew turned grim.

I am now in this terrifying cold world,

Alone, full of hate, from a blunder where I failed.

I felt my once known mind go asunder,

To walk into a place where your life goes under.

Tempting curiosity that took control,

Before it became too late and in this room I enfold. 

I feel this place holding me in tight,

So to adjust my emotions and be as it might.

I seek for the one that sent me to this hell,

Just as I hear the same laughter so to be under a spell.

An unknown destiny I start to move towards,

Knowing if I follow this cursed life shall give rewards.

Convincing my black heart how I am still alive,

But it is now life that I feel to despise.

I find my temptress in the room with the candle and book,

How I am now entrapped in the tomb that I once within looked.

I am drawn to the wonder of what my temptress is up to,

As she mutters deep slow words from the book I never knew.

Mysteriously she grabs the flame from the candle,

In her own hand without the flame burning her mantle.

She tosses the flame across the room to light the fire place,

Lit up, yet still it is dull and dreary where colour is of no trace.

This place is lifeless and grey like ashes to blow in the wind,

The lonely, dark feeling where a glimpse of life is a hatred whim.

The fireplace lit with a grey flicker opens to reveal another domain,

Satisfyingly peering in I see a place that gives a sense for being sane.

This has to be how peoples mirrors appeared with the shadow form,

Noticing my temptress holding a sharp tool stabbing her hand without a torn.

She then points to the fire as to order me to look,

A long, horrid shriek saying 'gooooooo', as I drift in to this tight nook.

I travel through somehow not knowing whereto,

With the sense of what is left behind still holding so not to let loose.

As I find myself back at my own old home,

Spiritually sensing myself freely to roam.

Why am I here, what is expected of me, 

As I look back at my temptress through a mirror I see.

I see her grab yet another flame from the candle that is lit,

To once again toss it across only this time it emerges where I once lived.

My home becomes engulfed with fire roaring around,

I stand here watching my entire life burn down.

Where then the flames drop slowly like a waterfall,

Revealing a darken, grey ash looking place like where I recall.

Only the mirror hung on the wall remains intact,

Temptress still looking in at me telepathically sending me the facts.

So to those in the living now know me as dead,

Burned alive in my home as I slept in my own bed.

Yet, I am now to stay in my dull and dreary home, 

Where I am a source for her to instruct as one of the unknown.

I am a slave to her dark, wicked ways,

To help her and the world she lives on people we prey.

But first we must attract someone to come,

Using the magic of the mirror to entice to my home.

Thus being left for my temptress to entrance,

Just like I once had where I appeared in an instance.

Now I am one of these dark shadow forms,

I understand it started from a curse where upon an unborn.

Revenge on all those whom made a grief mistake,

One of that where the cause by a doctor on the estate.

Realising now how my temptress had become my bait,

All this were to happen as to lay out my own fate.

Knowing my family shall attend my own funeral,

I am to take my first victim in line for them all.

Cruel it seems to kill one of my own,

However, as my own heart is black this test I am to prone.

As sudden as my home burned down,

I see a vortex where those at my funeral are around.

So too is my temptress appearing through,

Convincing my mind how these once people I knew.

Play on the act of being grievance and upset,

I believe how they rather wished my life inept.

Easily angered and hate towards,

To blame my father and the demands he caused.

I fly towards him with hands reaching out,

Sensing satisfaction from my temptress with what I am about.

Just as my father takes a nibble on a snack,

My hands reach his throat and he chokes as his eyes rolls back.

My dirty long fingernails dig deeply within,

Killing him quickly as too his soul now befalls to the darkly sin.

He do not know who I am as he appears before me,

Where he swiftly drifts into the fire that flickers I see.

Unlike myself whom roams around in this dark shadow form,

My first kill appears beside my temptress as she makes him into an orb.

Entrapped as a light she encloses him into a glass jar,

Cackling as she might of which I hear clearly from afar.

From this I sense a strong power growing,

As if the unborn may come alive from longing.

May the curse be lifted and perhaps set us free,

But there is a long way to go as I begun to set on thee.

My deed for the day must of been fulfilled,

As the vortex sends me back to the dull place still.

A reward from my temptress is a spell to learn,

One that shall enhance my powers with what I use in turn.

And my black heart feels wickedly good,

Desirably hungry for more to prey on I should.

As then another vortex takes me to another day,

An estate agent walking in and heading my way.

Alongside is my widowed wife and new husband smiling,

I watch them clearly on the stairs climbing.

It seems my burnt down home is to be reoccupied,

By my then wife and her husband of a doctor as implied.

I knew my wishes of my temptress there and then,

Thinking of my new power I'm to kill this man whom offend.

I glare deeply towards this horrid man I am about to slay,

I wave my hands forward and flames are sent from where I play.

Just as my prey turns a light switch on the flames hit his arm,

Sparks fly out grabbing his life and causing harm.

His entire body ignites and fizzles in fire of blue,

His skin drips away like fat melting into glue.

Screams and sudden breaths by the remaining,

My deed is done for my temptress for her entertaining.

Yet again the taken soul enters the domain of shadowed doom,

Heads towards the open lit fire of dullness to be entombed.

I am absorbed back to my previous state in my lonely home,

Where power increases and a more stronger spell to be known.

I wonder whom shall be next to come to my evil fate,

To send away from their happy life and enter hells gate.

Laughter heard from my temptress as she looks upon from behind the mirror,

My black heart is more and more satisfied as I feel my entrapment become slimmer.

Waiting with anticipation to be sent to another victim,

My temptress orders me to rest as powers need to restore in my system.

But how do a dark shadow sleep, we sit in a chair and rest our deadly head,

Deeply in death we already are, so no need for a comfy bed.

The flame in the fire slowly fades out,

I sit and wait at the ready for someone to come about.

Trying not to dream, 

But to think of how my life had been.

As time passes by I hear ticking from a clock,

And too bells so to sway onboard a boat in a port about to dock.

Mist forming knee high from the ground,

I wonder of where I am if so to be life I am renowned.

An old pot-bellied man with walking stick, hat and cape,

Slowly is walking towards me with a big smile so to relate.

Have I been sent through another vortex once more,

As I look on and wonder if my fate is on this next tour.

Ironically a smile comes from a person whom is not meant to see me,

Then suddenly see another standing close behind holding out a hand to shake as be.

How I recognise this stranger yet not know of his name,

Without my temptress around this time I already know my game.

It seems I been sent back in history to my late ancestors,

One of whom is certain for sure a doctor as he holds a bag in his hand that pesters.

I hear words spoken of ones health and of those patients they share,

Detest fully I listen and wait as my darkened heart hisses over their cares.

Crying woes of a woman expecting her first child,

Is this thee woman that suffered a still born of vile.

Enough, I shall now condemn my own ill fate,

As I prepare my latest spell to cast on this person of late.

Holding out one hand I glare on with deep breaths,

A ball of fire appears spiralling on my palm thus certainly to cause a death.

I blow on it as it speeds across and hits my victims chest,

The ones pestering hand suddenly drops the bag and screams to rest.

Falling towards the ground, sweat forms on ones wrinkled brow,

A heart attack is this man to suffer as I watch over him now.

But then, distraction coming aloud from a window up afar,

A maid crying for help, her lady is about to give birth that inspire.

Dilemma for the pot-bellied man to stay or run away if he can,

More screams of 'she's dead, she's dead, my lady is dead' heard across the land.

My ancestor of late has now entered and drifted across the mist,

Astonishingly boarding the ship that staggers on the waves as if his body insist.

A boat occupied so it seems where I to hear my temptress laugh once again,

Sailed here with me she has, as the pot-bellied man stands to then.

Heads towards the screaming maid that now cries of pain,

'The baby has come but it is all so so too late'.

She stumbles back and I hear her fall in her seat,

Somehow knowing that lady, baby and maid no longer has a heartbeat.

Confusion rips through my own empty mind,

I had caused my own damn doom but from another time.

Now I understand why my temptress laughs with every kill I make,

Spitefully laughing at me knowing how my life is to forsake.

The laughter becomes louder and pierces my darkened black heart,

'You are your own worse enemy' she screams that shatters the place by far.

I am back to the point of mending a sore foot sprained from falling in floorboards,

Is this life again, looking up at my temptress in state of shock as I look towards.

'It's fine' I say again, 'No cuts just a small graze', so to have a Deja Vu,

She looks at me, moving her face close and says, 'this time do not be such a fool'.

Night train.

At day it looks like a normal playground,

At night it is a platform for when the night train comes around.

If you sit and wait just before midnight,

The night train will come as you'll hear and see it's light.

Like a ghost in the dark it do approach,

Chuffing along bringing with it a coach.

But many have boarded to never return,

As it rolls off into the distance and your life goes stern.

For you will become part of its ghostly form,

Forever riding the night train and never to leave board.

So unless you remain in the playground for a platform,

Not to be seen by the driver with a face that is torn.

One look from him and you will have a feeling of rigor,

To then be beckoned onto the train and be alive no more.

As you hear him laugh with his skeleton of a jaw chatter,

And what normal life once was suddenly no longer matter.

Mirror.

I look upon myself in the mirror,

What do I see?

I see someone more prettier,

This person really is not me.

How can someone be much fairer,

Torment me in such a way.

I'm going to have to be more darer,

And challenge those who may say.

Care free and have no flaws,

stop hanging mirrors on the back of your doors.

For what you see is not really you,

You'll never see the back of it, it's untrue.

Can this reflection have any feelings,

For times it do change.

Sometimes it has no meanings,

But my face is all deranged.

I am made to feel more in doubt,

The prettier me is now without.

I hope my tormentor comes back some day,

The risk for looking fairer is better that way.

Gay scene.

The big gay scene,

Hyped to make it seem amazing.

Really it is just full of transvestites, camp-queens and porn stars,

I'd rather live a life on planet mars.

Hunted you become like you are hiding away,

When all I am doing is living my life my way.

To make such a big drama of your sexuality,

Is crying out to be noticed and counted for all to see.

It takes years for people to accept for who they are,

The last thing they need is a big crowd pointing them out like some star.

Like dressed up as some big pink flamingo,

'Oh look at me and how my life now will go'.

Like animals all locked up in some cage,

Gathered up and to be looked upon in such a way.

I do not want to be labelled as some sort of freak,

I am human after all and being gay do not make me weak.

If you just get on with your life and keep it behind closed doors,

Then you wont bring attention to yourself and create any bad cause.

I resent those whom believe they know what it is all about,

Personally for me I see no need to do the thing that we call 'out'.

Boil on the bum.

I have a boil on my bum and it is not very nice,

I can not sit down very well and it is causing a strife.

It happened to of appeared the other day,

Even with cream it still wont go away.

Perhaps it's because I sit down for too long,

Hours not moving not even my bum.

So then this boil appears somewhere not very well,

Quite embarrassing the situation but must really tell.

I rang the doctors and they gave me a good time,

Funny how the matter of the situation now seems more worrying in the mind.

Like it is for me to exaggerate,

But please believe me as it do cause an ache.

The Doc. asked to lay on the bed on my side,

I suggested to bend over for the Doc to pry.

I been to the doctors I got some ointment cream,

This is going to be a long one I better get those men out of my dream.

Though it turns out not to be a boil on the bum,

But, certainly for a while I will be going without any fun.

Hookers and liars.

Is there no longer such a thing as a free one night stand,

Up late chatting with a glass of wine always leads to money out of the hand?

Just when you thought you had everything in common with this and that,

You suddenly realise how with this person it is all an act.

They pretend to like everything that you do,

Anything that you think possible, yes that too.

Is life now full of just hookers and liars,

No one genuine to get on with like a house on fire.

No wonder trust for people have now faded away,

It's now full of deceit and users that tend to stray.

They try to convince you they know all about relationships,

When really all they know is sex and that you pay for it.

To understand someone that deeply within,

Takes more than just being in bed with and managing that fake grin.

The type of grin that we know as a smug look upon the face,

For getting one over and hoping you don't notice their orgasm were a fake.

They even get to know all about your woman and man,

Not caring for the problems just as long they have money in the hand.

Sympathising along with your pity and woes,

The opposites attract was invented by a pro.

They'd even consider sleeping with the husband or wife,

Just as long as they get business their way in their life.

And when they know more about your other half,

No wonder escorts and mistresses are disliked by far.

They seem to think they know more what makes them tick,

But really, who is the one here that is really thick?

So you make sure you hold onto your woman or man,

Just around the corner there is always someone holding out their hand.

Lamp-post.

Just outside of my bedroom window,

There is a light that shines on all that below.

It keeps me awake at night sometimes,

Shining through onto my face even if the curtains are tide.

At times I wonder why it is there,

Perhaps it were misplaced and should of gone elsewhere.

Yet still each night it comes on at sunset,

Orange, like the sun in the day we get.

I always have a good stash of candles,

Incase it cuts out and the dark I can't handle.

For at night it can become very dark,

If it wasn't for stars and the moon you wouldn’t know where you are.

So thankfully, I gather the light is good where it is,

But why outside of my bedroom window, hiss hiss.

It could of been placed a few feet further away,

Then my bed at night will be a nice place to stay.

I can think of many other locations,

Only the time and place is another situation.

No, I'll have to grin and bare it,

Maybe I'll decorate it to make it seem artistic.

How about pink ribbons laced all around,

Or yellow ducks, or maybe several clowns.

Right now it is just silver metal,

Boring, like waiting for a boiling kettle.

Perhaps we could do one of those Morris dances,

Have all the neighbours outside looking on with glances.

Or, turn it into some worshipping pole,

Sit around it in a circle and wave our hands to and fro.

Something has to be done to make it fit into place,

Be part of the area so not to take up any space.

I think I will start to give it a nickname,

So to be more polite as when I ask to be excused of my way.

"J"

"J" is the letter,

Can you think of any names that make you feel better?

Let's start with my own, 'Jon',

Are there are any more by means to go on?

I, do like the name 'Jay',

So manly, yet so gay.

Or, how about Joe, or Joey,

But, is it really your name, no rush, don't worry.

To be called 'Justin',

I think of things to be disgusting.

But not in a manner to be vile,

To be sexy, just for a while.

Though I am thinking of boys names,

Is this fair?

Let's think of some girls names,

But none that sound of a silly mare.

'Jean', now that's a catch,

Shall Joan, or Jane be a match.

Now how about 'Jenny', or 'Jennifer',

I once knew someone of that, we were a pair.

Of all the names that could begin with "J",

There is none quite like my own in such a way.

See from the start I said it were 'Jon',

But it is actually 'Jon-Lee', and now we are done.

Lord of the manor.

Do you not like my attire, my pose, the way I speak,

If we are not up to your standards do our living lives be bleak.

You walk around this place like a lord of the manor,

Those whom are not of your liking seems to throw in the works a spanner.

Am I seen as a threat, a worry, a dishonest person,

If I disoblige to your orders is the situation worsen.

Perhaps I seem common to your usual ways,

Riff raff, from the gutter, in London I stay.

Do you not see how the open air fills my lungs,

Creates words for me to speak, ones that I never begun.

Whom shall I address this piece of work to,

It is in this place I began to write of the enjoyment for you.

Fancy that, I dream of elegancy and style and flair,

An ideal picnic beside a lake if you dare.

Alas, this not to be,

It lingers on in a dream just for me.

So ask yourself now, am I to your oneself,

Do we get along or be left on the shelf.

La de da, limp of the wrist and old fashion words,

This manor you be lord to just whose exactly is this world.

Lazy Sunday afternoons.

Alarm clock clicks and the radio switches on,

I arouse from my slumber with the sound of the 60's upon.

A quick yawn and a stretch or two,

Glancing over to see what will the other-half do.

Do I stay in bed or grab my gown,

An extra hour to recharge my energy that went down.

But then a stir from the other-side of the bed,

A snore, grunt, moan comes from the sleepy head.

That answers that I am to awaken,

No rest for the wicked while others smell the bacon.

Coffee pot on and the cups are filled with sugar and cream,

Just as I bring in the breakfast I see someone is having a dream.

Why do they call them lazy Sunday afternoons,

When all I do is look after number one who is to awaken soon.

I leave the aroma of coffee by his side,

Shaking a leg to awaken a snoring mound that I abide.

Looks like plan B before the coffee becomes cold,

I grab the hoover and begin around the bed feeling bold.

For someone who awakes early everyday of the week,

Not even the sound of the hoover can make its peak.

Then why set the radio to switch on at this time,

'It's my favourite garden programme' that comes on at nine.

For someone who do not even hear the first click of the day,

Nor even the rattling sound coming from the breakfast tray.

Lazy Sunday afternoons it can be for some,

But first are you not to awaken in the morning for them to begun.

By late morning this one will be slouched on the sofa watching the telly,

As I slave over a hot stove getting the dinner ready.

Lazy Sunday afternoons are not designed for someone like me,

I still have to look after number one so that for him it can be.

Still, I did the hoovering so that's out of the way,

I'll just take it slowly and try to enjoy the day.

Pigeon TV.

Have you ever wondered when you put the TV on,

What causes interference and fuzziness that wont be gone?

While you are trying to watch you favourite channel,

Someone says 'David', but it sounds like 'Daniel'.

You see flickering lines and snowy dots,

With ghost like figures in the background and hair like mops.

I tried to work it out one day,

Looking here, looking there and in every way.

Until one day I sat down watching TV,

As I looked out of the window do you know what I see?

Pigeons sitting on the aerial on top of the roof,

And I wondered can these birds be the cause of such a goof.

I started to day dream and thinking what for,

Do the birds sit there and listen in to inside that door.

They have these special type of feet,

That picks up signals and any noisy beat.

To then fly off and away to somewhere new,

Picking up info, the soaps and the news too.

Imagine they sit there and listen to 'Coronation Street',

I have seen them sit there for the half an hour without moving their feet.

They say they used pigeons to send messages during the war,

Is this how it were done instead of posting through the door.

You really should look for yourself one day,

Notice what I seen and how the pigeons behave.

Granddad.

My Granddad loved his garden,

always out there in the back.

For more flowers he never did pardon,

That is one thing he never lacked.

He always kept it tidied,

Even in his shed.

Us to admire he never minded,

Until he fell dead.

So we placed a small rose bush,

In memory of his name.

He always use to call me mush,

And we played silly games.

But that is all now in the past,

And life do move on.

It's the memories that do last,

And be dug up again to never be gone.

See a penny pick it up.

My granddad was bold and wise,

My Nan pretty and fair.

They both taught me to be good and tell no lies,

And how to look out for each other and care.

He enjoyed a wager on the horses,

Potting up in the garden and fishing.

Where she cooked meals in courses,

Knitting up woolly jumpers and anything in the kitchen.

Some afternoons after we had tea,

We will go for a stroll along the canal.

Just my granddad, Nan and me,

Where I will see our reflection in the water feeling well.

For our Nan we will pick berries from the bush,

My granddad will toss stones.

If I wondered off he will call out mush,

With the soft voice of my Nan to not walk off alone.

I were small, excited and being adventurous,

My granddad says I take after him.

Although they will argue when Nan says I have her prettiness,

With the brains of my granddad why I am dim. 

They made me smile, laugh and cry with joy,

Memories of them I love very dearly.

Especially these walks we will have as when I were a boy,

I remember like yesterday very clearly.

One afternoon I spotted a penny there on the floor,

My granddad told me to pick it up for good luck.

Saying how this one will be very special I am sure,

When he said he will look after it incase one day I get stuck.

Returning home to the smell of nanas homemade bakery,

The berries cooked from before.

A pie with cream for after tea,

The pie my stomach were only hungry for.

Memories like these is what stays deep in our hearts,

The years that passes us all by.

The time together spent without a sad depart,

Until one day when our beloved die.

Now this is to be true with what I am about to tell,

The last afternoon I am about to spend.

The reading of their will when my heart fell,

But soon picked up again and tenderly mend.

Our names read out with what had been left,

A sum equal to each and all.

But next to my name was something else said,

A figure with an extra penny to call.

The eye of a needle.

The eye of a needle,

Small, yet still feasible.

A squinting of the eye,

And steady hands to guide.

As you poke the thread through,

Making your eyes go boss-eyed too.

Sometimes it is a boss-shot,

Causing frustration and feeling hot.

Tender wet lips,

Sometimes prevents hands on hips.

Maybe a magnifying glass will help,

To aide in this conquest I dealt.

Steam forming from my ears,

If I drop this needle I wont hear.

Raging anger built up in my teeth,

I'll stamp my foot if I do not succeed.

Like a puzzle this task in front,

Careful I do not swear and shout to a clump.

Though finally I poked it in the eye,

Now what were I going to do again, I sigh.

Red car.

There is a red car where I live,

It must be in a state for the looks people give.

So I decided to write this poem today,

Put it in a competition and see if I win some way.

For the car is not worth that much,

But must be worth something to write as such.

It has a flat tyre and a broken engine,

But surely it still can be in the mending.

I doubt very much it will win first prize,

Even if it gets third I will be surprised.

Maybe it needs a right good clean,

Then the competition wont seem so mean.

Or perhaps it can be placed in a garage,

So the parking space someone else can manage.

I doubt very much it is a space for me,

But surely something else is better than that scrap heap.

Fire, fire.

Fire, fire, scream and shout,

Fire, fire, I got to get out.

Fire, fire, quickly go and tell,

Fire, fire, before I get to hell.

Fire, fire, reaching high,

Fire, fire, am I going to die.

Fire, fire, I can not breathe,

Fire, fire, I have to leave.

Fire, fire, I swear not to play with matches again,

Fire, fire, where are those firemen.

Fire, fire, I can hear the siren,

Fire, fire, too late I am now dying.

Singing the blues.

When I start singing the blues,

Unhappiness has nothing to lose.

It's a pleasure to sing of feeling down,

And to make me laugh will take more than a clown.

Within my pitiful sorrow eyes,

I have smiling faces to despise.

You go ahead and wipe that grin from off of your face,

While I am here singing the blues you're not allowed into this place.

A piano amongst the jazz band,

Play it loud as I sing into this microphone in my hand.

We're going to show the real meaning of the blues,

Anyone feeling happy will have to call it truce.

For this is going to be a sad song,

To make us miserable people get along.

You just hang your coat up over there,

Take a seat and I'll sing this to be fair.

Order a drink or two,

My lonely heart is going to be sung out just for you.

And when I am done you will all see,

How singing the blues is another way of being happy.

Madonna.

Religious Idol, Fashion Symbol, or Pop Singer,

In my heart Madonna is a complete winner.

I think of her dearly and highly,

And, Madonna is far better than Kylie.

Whatever the tune, whatever the song,

In my mind Madonna has already won.

Her beat gets my heart thumping,

While her voice sends my blood pumping.

I get tinkles down my spine,

And, my hair stands up fine. 

My eyes open up wide,

Like tripping on the tide.

For years I happened to dote,

Posters on the wall and the odd love note.

All the albums and the singles,

Watched all the films and caught all the jingles.

I even thought of having 'Madonna' tattooed on my bum,

But what would be the point in that, it's not fun.

So, I'll settle for the place in my heart,

There her name will be forever and by far.

Michael Jackson (R.I.P.)

Poem in memory of Michael Jackson;

'The time has come to say goodbye, 

to pick up your dancing shoes and fly up high. 

May your music continue on, 

like angels singing down upon. 

For years you shun a light, 

we felt your warmth and a love so bright. 

You did so much for our advantage, 

with great respect we never took you for granted. 

A powerful thing you surely shown, 

to stand up above and fondly grown. 

You took the world within your own two hands, 

sang with joy and played amongst the greatest band.' 

R.I.P.

Big Brother.

Big Brother programme is such a show,

And the people that enter no body knows.

The attraction to watch is something of a blur,

But I believe it is a case of 'wish I were there'.

Like a magnet it draws you in,

What's around the corner what do it bring.

The enjoyment to watch and excitement to see,

Real life television on your own TV.