Now words and sentences are  my new toys
I break them up and rearrange their parts
No longer do I yearn to play with boys

No longer either do I fear my voice
Or whether I upturn the church’s cart
Now words and sentences are  my new toys

How I spend my time may be a choice
Swift thoughts  like striped fishes  rise and dart
No longer do I yearn to play with boys

Spending time  like money, no surprise
We see the  futile waste, ungifted hearts
Words and sentences are   sscred toys

Words and truth create a new alloy
We wander on without a map or chart
Here is Eden ,as play girls and boys

 

For  life’s  tender  joys I am alert
Woe is woven in  for our soul’s birth
Yes  joy and sadness mix as we each  play
No longer  shall I yearn  for other ways

 

 

 

The elegance of  structure and of bone
Obscene  post- reason steely, cold and bare
God once dwelt in  culture’s floating domes

Post modern art repels and makes no home
Leaves us wandering, does not seem to care
For elegance. for structure  or its bones

Mathematics dry  and dead ,unknown
Is PC   and yet our hearts it tears
Dwells in texts and not in  human groans

Yet love  endures in ancient bricks and stones
The Tudor wall  here, built by hands with flair
So  elegant in structure red brick leans

Incoherent, what do  tower blocks  mean?
In ugly cities  hear slit skylines swear
Where the  echoed goodness. where the  sin?

Past unused  stome churches , traffic swerves
No more are children  playing   on these kerbs
The structure  of  imagination’s spun
The space   for  sacred living shrinks, is gone