The Angry Men

The Angry Men The angry men swarmed across the Earth, Cawing with their fractious voices, Driven by their untamed hearts, Lustful in their greedy nature, Filled with perfidious self-doubts, Friends with fulsome fear. The angry men ignore Earth’s grace, Sucking the lands dry, Seizing their false birthright, Wealth their unholy credo, Filled with well disguisedContinue reading “The Angry Men”

The Offering

The Offering Sacred invocations gently calling, Sculpted ebony hands, clasped prayer like, Tribal keepers of lore, wisdom and love. Voices awash with ancient memories, Earth pulse, effortless dancing, raptured chants, Forgotten time, forgotten self, home again. Love woven hearts in blissful surrender, Earthy fragrant aroma melts their minds, Naught but this, naught but complete releaseContinue reading “The Offering”


Echoes of Somewhere Somewhere there is a beating human heart, Human heart, human heart; Somewhere there is a heart that is singing, Is singing, is singing; Somewhere there is our dearest lover, Dearest lover, dearest lover; Somewhere there is the warmest of smiles greeting us, Greeting us, greeting us; Somewhere there is our human life,Continue reading “Echoes”

Old Photos

Old Photo’s Bending to tie my shoes, seems a little Harder this year, I sit, baggy trousered, Caressing the old blue photo album, Embossing slightly worn, occasional Pages are a little loose now. Opened; Love lost remembered, discovered Between stuck-together pages, brushing The grey stubble on my chin, grinning, my head, Bow’d slightly, silently reminiscing.Continue reading “Old Photos”

Tribal Roots

Tribal Roots Tickle the time when your dreams can come true, Leave behind old scores unsettled, magnify Your hopes and twist the reality we call fate. Lie merchants breath life into old bones dangling, In the soft comfortable chair paused in time, Channel after channel of dreamers delight. Seldom have we marched to one drumContinue reading “Tribal Roots”

O’ Bag a Bones

O’ Bag a Bones O’ bag a bones does thou lie t’ me? Now I recognise thee on waking, thee I Know, Does’t thou recognise waking me? O’ bag a bones thy life so fancy, thy story Well told, again and again thy rymes unfold, each Passing second, each fanciful hour thy Tale weaves anotherContinue reading “O’ Bag a Bones”