February 27, 2017

 

 

Oh, the build up – mercy me,

a busted gut, where blood ran free.

 

Oh, such little sense on show.

Up in arms – well I don’t know!

 

Oh, the broken hearts in bits,

recovery slow – as panic hits.

 

Oh, the value of wisdom’s call,

when backs were up against the wall.

 

Oh, the scandal, all yesterday’s news,

forgiveness found in crowded pews.

 

Oh, the undoing of twisted lies,

so weak were those soft alibis.

 

Oh, the relief of answered prayers,

a job well done – end of nightmares.

 

October 18, 2014

 

 

Too proud they say;

she’ll fall from grace,

and then have egg

left on her face.

 

Too proud is she,

with chin held high,

and nose upturned,

towards the sky.

 

Too proud, maybe

but better that,

when gossips seen

to chew the fat.

 

Too proud, head bowed,

when arrows point.

A moonlight flit;

new life anoint.

 

Too proud, how else

to keep afloat,

when leaving town

on the last boat.

 

 

 

April 23, 2014

 

 

Words are withheld

without retention

in the house

of apprehension

 

Words left unsaid;

a bone of contention,

that in the end form

a meagre pension.

 

Words better said;

value, to mention.

In the end encourages

loyal intention.

 

 

 

March 28, 2014

 

 

A Cyclops maybe

with double vision

writes purely for pleasure

from an open prison.

 

and words, just words

and words alone

made up from desire

through flesh and bone

 

are expressed, free flowing

without much sense

but nevertheless copied

at great expense.

 

What fools are they

who think with just one eye

Cyclops sight impaired

and on his work dare spy.

 

For his underlying

strength is ‘precision’,

and he can see in duplicate

with his double vision.

 

 

 

 

February 28, 2014

 

 

Pages of lines,

taken as if gifted.

Re-appearing by magic;

automatically air-lifted

 

by someone who’s loyalty

has certainly drifted,

and only coming to light

when evidence sifted.

 

 

February 19, 2014

 

 

Cry wolf and then cry wolf some more,

and scare the blighters from your door.

 

Cry imbeciles and then consult.

No more to take their damned insult.

 

 

February 16, 2014

 

 

What hope of justice?

when a silent tongue

keeps buried the past;

the pain to prolong.

 

Then to speak the truth

and not be believed;

the injured party

once more aggrieved.

 

Too late, some say.

Others say, never too late.

The debate goes on

to decide their fate.

 

 

 

 

Why is a lie-detector

on a television show

acceptable evidence

and a convincing blow?

 

Yet it isn’t recognised

within a court of law,

where wrong decisions

can at reputations, claw.

 

 

 

January 29, 2014

 

 

The drive;

The determination,

to succeed when so

near to the brink.

 

The laugh;

The satisfaction,

in being more intuitive

than they think.

 

 

January 2, 2014

 

 

When silent alarm bells ring out,

because sensitivity so acute,

in the mind of one so persecuted,

one cannot fail to get to the root.

 

When a body of work so precious,

with minor alteration is reproduced,

silent alarm bells reach a sinister tone,

revealing a trespasser, easily seduced.

 

With gentle, early warnings ignored,

there is only one course left to take.

Let the charlatans and forgers beware,

or risk being revealed as a fake.

 

 

 

 

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