The Evening News no longer is admired
Nor BBC to which the bright aspired
Now all the News is Fake ,there is no Truth
The logic of the heart can be a brute
The Evening News
The loss of European links leads man to mires
Where sing no hosts of angels nor their choirs
But only music made and played by liars
The death of civil life is loss acute
The nuclear power,the energy, the fire
The blazing torch, the ditch, the dark quagmire.
The energy of life lost in disputes
The good ,like weeds ,is pulled up by the roots
Who can kindle hope and new desire?
The Evening News?
Day: August 2, 2018
Silver birch
The crisis of the West is here and strong
God is dead ;we do our many wrongs
We worship kitchens made from silver birch,
Like trees beside the camp of Auschwitz cursed
To whom does guilt or even blame belong?
The birds, unknowing, chirrup,sing
We may guess the endgame,see forked tongues
As ancients knew the Bible,verse by verse.
The crisis of the West.
To the screens we criticise,we throng
To see the drowning victims where seas fling,
We have no scales to measure what is worse.
The knowledge or the sense of errant worth.
The language of the heart is scarce and terse.
The crisis of the West
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In times of loss
In times of loss, we each grieve in our way
Weeping,mourning ,sad throughout the day
Yet we still see the sun upon the rose
And see wild winds as through tall trees they blow
In times of loss
The neighbours hide, not knowing what to say
The old man wakes at night and for friends prays
One by one the tears my eyes will close
I would have gone where one I loved did go
Yet here I am and here my heart I lay
In times of loss
How my heart sings 