Sitting on the beach in the gloaming watching as the sea takes in the sun,
thinking of the times and how I love you knowing that you're the only one.
Bringing back a sense of happy childhood something that is lost but not forgot.
I saw you in my dreams before I knew you, love in mind and time is never lost....................
I'll string some words together to see what sound they make, because the unthinkable thought is thought here on that there is no mistake.
She was one for whom appearance mattered, that was the appearance she gave, and I fumbled around in my head for a face to connect to her name.
A frost has settled inside me as a picture of her face printed it self into my memory like the stickers on a old guitar case.
The more I change the more I seem to stay the same, and I'm falling into despair with heartache once again.
Beyond the truth beyond the lies without the fear and pain this illusion of a life will ring true now and then.
Sharing a drink of loneliness with the young looking through old eyes, time is killing us slowly, time's not on our side.
As the heart runs out of beats we see the gates that are pearly, beware you might die of old age a little bit too early.
So I've strung these words together to hear the sounds they made, are they about the God Janus; who's in every marketplace.
Where every mirror shows that you have a different face.................................
This book I made to friends and poets has been a joy to me, It's taken me back to a time when I was young and free.
If I knew then what I know now of the sliding doors of fate but we all know that hindsight always turns up late.
I feel that times escaping, it's running away from me the future fades into the past on that we all agree.
I want to live a long life but never to grow old or fumble around inside my head for stories to be told.
The way an oyster wraps up a small grain of sand and coats it with nacre to produce something grand.
This book I wrapped in leather it had me in a whirl I like to think it's also some type of a pearl..............
If music be the food of love, I'll have a Bb on toast.
This Broken violin only played one chord......F demented.......
So I cut the neck off and made it into a ukulele or Ukulin or a Vioele?
Jungle nights in Harlem dancing in the streets Duke Ellington band
playing that syncopated beat.
Across the Harlem rooftops and down in the bars and speaks
the music all around us the fun is there to seek.
Black renaissance dancers dance to a creole band, tall, tan, and terrific
those girls from Dixieland.
Harlem was romantic, and strong hard and cold
but the rhythm seeping through you soothes the restless soul...........
If the true purpose of life is to live life to the full.
You fulfilled that purpose........
Our wonderful boy.
and then perhaps not think of her in a Basque with stocking tops.
In the doctors surgery reclining upon a couch, with eyes so dark
and crow black hair and painted lips that she would pout.
And Madammselle Brigitte or BB as she was known, with sultry eyes
and sulky lips mon coeur bat pour toi, you belle fille, who I worshiped.
So its goodbye Norma Jeane and the seven year itch, standing over the
subway grating our lives you did enrich.
But to have one more adventure, one more roll of the dice,
one last chance to embrace that feeling, that feeling of
the chase, before I'm lost forever in the shadow of timeless space..........
There no getting over this I've nothing to say,
not a thing I can do to keep sadness at bay.
I find I can't laugh but it's easy to cry,
I cry for myself on that I can't lie.
There's a pain in my heart I just want to scream,
the only thing left for me is to sleep and to dream.
So I just dream of a world I once knew,
clocks don't turn back so I dream dreams of you.....
Tulips stand in silent watch over flora entombed in winter, waiting for springs gaudy hues, pinks, purple, yellows, and blues. Winter Jasmine blooms soon go but tulip petals defy the frost but all too soon they're lost.
This tulip is made to last come summer heat or winter's blast, when leaves do fall in wintry weather and the summer birds have fled. This tulip will stay for winter just because it's made from lead.........
From the top of the bus I could see the dancing and music that night.
This is how I remember it though I know this picture's not right.
In my first year as a teenager I was wanting but not knowing of what?
Sitting on the bus in traffic through a window this image I got.
In the youth club they were dancing and it spilled into the street.
They whirled and twirled as he held her, Oh to have been him on that night.
So in my mind's eye I have changed it from that street to a Parisian night.
With a jazz band playing hot numbers with the type of girls that I liked.....
As the man makes a stool for the cellar-man,
As the tide erodes a cliff,
As footsteps are lost on a sandy beach,
With dewdrops on gossamer webs.
As sand runs through an hourglass,
And youth takes the bitter with the sweet,
With a promise of love and stolen days,
But it's all a trick not a treat.
Time is killing them slowly,
The days have not lingered on,
Old age takes the bitter with the sour,
No grains are left, the hour gone,
The dews dried up, the webs are dashed,
The wind reveals fossil prints,
The cliff has gone and left not a hint,
The stools in the bar, but the cellar-man ain't........
I remember the early morning mist in the city riding a bike over the streets of cobbles.
The sun burns away the haze, no cars, just people walking quietly to fulfil their monotonous days.
That was long ago, now things have altered, the cobbles have gone, cars are here, and people
hurry on.
The morning mist is soft and quiet like a painting that Hopper might do.
It takes me back to memories of autumn days and idle thoughts of you.
Music runs through my head like the soundtrack to my life, I retrace the lost footsteps of my
youth, listening for the sound of your voice.
The passed is like a long-dead stranger whispering in my ear, telling me thing I already know,
things I don't need to hear.................
Them
We left them in their boxes, we left them at the grave our Grannies and Grandads with all their yesterdays. But we were young and didn't care we had our lives to live, so to their wakes we did go too talk of things they did, their golden age their Camelot but all too soon......... They're all forgot.
Me
It's my turn now, I see the look from Nephews and Nieces. They see me go walking slow with shallow breath and wheezes. I know one day without a care they'll leave me in my coffin, and off they'll trot to reminisce of all my ways and teases. But as times rolls on they'll remember me...But not so very often.
You
But soon, "Time that creeps in this petty pace" will tap you on your shoulder, your nearest and dearest will see you're looking older. Family members and acquaintances will stand around your casket, and off they go to talk and laugh at the ways you once enchanted. But they are young without a care and have their lives to live. And off they'll go and you will also be forgotten........
So it was them yesterday, me today, and you tomorrow. And we'll all together in this "Land of lost content". Where bones aren't stiff, flesh not feeble and nothing to lament. Throw away your walking sticks for here we have no scars. I'll be with all my family, and I'll dance among the stars........
Them yesterday, Me today, You tomorrow............
In the woods of Chelmsley, before the housing estate
The Celtic God Cernunnos resided in that place.
And in that wood my friends and I at the time of Halloween
Go among the silver birch to look for Jack-in-the-Green.
We knew he's hiding in there in full view but still unseen.
With Mab or Titania, or some other Fairy Queen.
Jack, links us to our pagan past a spirit of the ancient woods,
As old as time his dance of life the steps we'd follow, if we could.
Through the paths of wandering fern into groves of old oak trees,
Sunlight shining through the branches, a dazzling carpet of green leaves.
In there The Green Man concealed; The moustachioed green eyed esprit............
As I walked this morning with the smell of caramel lingering like the gentle mist of orange,
upon a Terry's all gold.
I went to see my confectioner for my Candy Bars and Smarties and he told me only sugar free
chocolate can be sold.
This I can't believe I said, I can't believe this trade is dead, you can not abandon tools like that,
your stainless bowls or silpat mat.
Oh great father of the Hershey Bar ever since I was young I breast fed along with M&Ms Truffles'
and things that stained my tongue.
I lost some teeth to chewy treats, Lollipops and boiled sweets, acquired a taste of Nougat,
and some bonbons that are bittersweet.
And now you ask that I should watch no children's teeth to slowly rot, what kind of words
are these to hear from a chocolatier who the dentist fears....................
Now there seems no reason for me to carry on, in this land with no Woolworths for me
to buy Bonbons.
I'm lonely and it's quiet and the woke brigade is coming, so I think it's time to sling my hook
and cease my senseless moaning.
Soon I'll go to fairy dairyland where Toblerones are free, and Cadbury's Wispa Gold Bar
is only made for me.
Where a cascading fondue fountain is something to behold, and death to this old curmudgeon
comes, with a vegan roll......................................
Born within weeks of each other you me and him.
Played in the streets together you me and him.
First day at school together Miss Mavis our teacher name,
learnt the lessons of life together you me and him.
Ten years at school together you me and him.
Different friends we made together you me and him,
we all left school together had jobs not careers,
we went to the clubs together you me and him.
We all had girlfriends together you me and him,
you had the beautiful one fancied by me and him.
I got the clever one, him, the athlete.
A new future lay ahead for us. You me and him.
We've all grown old together you me and him.
We're in our declining years now you me and him.
One by one friends have gone,
we've had a good inning, so they say.
I wonder who'll be first to go. You me or...........him?
Out of my dream from dark water she comes bringing her light to lighten the day.
Morning light slowly brightens the room lazy thoughts lead my mind astray
from a half forgotten tune.
I think of you in your school girl garb with a satchel upon your back.
Riding the bus a tuppenny fare off to school without a care.
In my mind I see you there tall and thin with plaited hair.
Where was I, in life's morning march when mornings
were pearly pink.
Off to school to learn of things and write with pen and ink.
Vasco da Gama, the Cape of Good Hope, the history of Kings of old.
Assembly's held in the school hall with bible stories told.
In the darkest hour just before the dawn from dark waters
comes the light, and my small world is reborn.
Where every day's always the same................but I am always different............ 
