Black pudding is not a dessert
Neither is steak and kidney pudding
Gravy is not grave.
Why do we stuff joints?
Black pudding is not a dessert
Neither is steak and kidney pudding
Gravy is not grave.
Why do we stuff joints?
What if the moon fell from the sky
And all the Bishops told us lies?
Viruses are out to play
We wonder which of us must pay
The snow fell softly on the graves
Who will spend and who will save
Snow up in the Pennines dressed the hills
Though the cautious thought àbout their wills
When we walked I held your hand in mine
We walked round a small lake to see geese fly
We sauntered, in a rhythm were aligned
Time had stopped, the geese in circles climbed
Then swept onto the path as we came by
When we walked I held your hand in mine
Like a natural god, the geese divine
Landed in their beauty with a sigh
We entered a new rhythm, were aligned
On the shining water geese in line
Float and hunt for food with little cries
When we walked I held your hand in mine
In our garden for your love I pine
I cannot love another till I die
We sauntered, in a rhythm were aligned
God is on the mountain with his lyre
Singing of the beauty of desire
When we walked I warmed your hand in mine
We lived attuned to love until you died
Illness pain and treatment sap our strength
Till we wonder is there something left
Why accept the suffering and the angst
Does any God seem worthy of our thanks?
Don’t exercise like soldiers on parade
Be like a tree that in soft breezes sways
The frost and sun make images that sing
To our human hearts much joy they bring
Be less active, let perception be
All that matters to humanity
The pathos of her howl cuts through my bones
Dementia is the illness noone knows
For hours of night and day she calls again
The staff are underpaid,yet care remains
Yet should sick people have to hear her. cries
As some of us will live yet some will die
I The gorgeous leaves have disappeared itoday
Now a cat is hunting for his prey
the sun is low but shining with delight
See the flock of geese as it takes flight
Oh lovely leaves you die and fall to earth
Even nature’s favourite has no worth
All that lives will age and duly rot
Making food for beetles to beget
In three November weeks the red leaves died
No more to flaunt their glory and their pride
They turned a dinghy brown as they each dried
Now they fall to earth down there to hide
The leaves once rich and moist lie on the ground
No longer needed, they turn red and brown
Come back to me, my sweetheart
Don’t leave me all alone.
Come back to me, my darling
I can’t believe you’ ve gone.
I’m crying ‘cos I’m feeling blue again.
I’m crying’cos I’m falling like a stone.
Oh, let me tempt you with my beauty
And my mind forever young.
Let me tempt you with my spirit
My laughter and my songs.
I’m crying ‘cos I never did you wrong.
I’m crying ‘cos with you I still belong.
I thought maybe I’d follow,
To see where you have gone
But there’s a hand upon this tiller
That is not mine alone.
I’m crying ‘cos I wrote this old blue song.
I’m crying ‘cos I’ve missed you for too long.
The hand upon my tiller
The mystery of the dark
The unknown one who lives in me
And sings like a skylark.
I’m singing ‘cos I wrote you a new song.
I’m singing ‘cos the cat ain’t got my tongue
Let yourself be breathed by mother earth .
Harmoniously we each discover worth
When my love lies and break my woman’s heart
. When life seems grey and rocks bestrew my path
. Then, shall I my life of evil start
And on the world shall I bestow my wrath?
For I have love’s own child inside my soul
And I shall tend her till at last she’s whole
How sad it is to see dried river beds
The clouds no longer weep my love is dead
The water does not flow, there is no breeze
The leaves have fallen from the summer trees
Many lonely people
living in one street
Can they get together nie
why don’t they all meet
Noone likes to bare their soul
Others may attack
But if you need more people
You must show us lack.
You are feeling empty
Hollow in your heart
Nobody may notice
You must make a start
Grab your courage strongly
Love is on your chart
Do not wander wildly
Still your gentle heart
My room is warm and comforting and light
This feels like kindness , brings my skin delight
I remember being held in loving arms
And soothed by songs as sweet as any balms
Let the lamplight run across the eyes
Let them soften to a wider gaze
Let the hair be free from sprays too strong
Let the skin enclose us softly like a song
We can’t deny the skin is often pricked
Or beaten by a parent who’s too strict
More fragile than a leaf from any tree
This frail membrane is our boundary
Floating into sleep in reverie
I lose myself while God imagines me
Oh doctor I am suffering pain
How can I relax my brain?
It’s not a muscle so I read
While I lay down on the bed
Hubert Benson wrote some books
I might find one if i look
He tells muscles to let go
Tension make us full of woe
How to calm your mind and heart
When so called friends have
made you smart
Take a bath in scented water
Seek for people full of
laughter
Eat good meals and feed the cat
Just wait here I have to stop
Every Time I see a four letter word I add another letter
Oh,fluck the Men are here where is my frock?
Oh fluck, why not shriek English
What creap for dinnrr
He writes too much cramp for me
You tweat, you broke my heart
You twist my swords
What shirt you speak at home
You are shifty
Blondy hell,Africa is me
I am damed if I will swear
Where did the count go ?
What count?
The beast one.
You are e-vile
You are e-book
How can I love a man with rough white beard
Unless He lets me trim it with my shears
My own body hair has disappeared
Though on my chin two hairs appear
Neither màle nor female we shed years
No-one loves the old nor dries their tears
Their skin flakes off their ears can’t hear
Their eyes have shrunk they seem to leer
Forgive us Lord and help us steer
For in the darkest places you are near
The demented people cry like dark wild wolves
Eery as a shark might be in Hull
When the Humber Ferry is half full
A shark slides on and makes the vessel bulge
It’s very cold in winter on that sea
So much water bythere and yet no tea.
Demented by the worry of misrule
Every Briton now asks for more gruel
I will take everything personally
I will interpret all events in the worst way
I will never look on the. bright side
I will show the doctors I know more than they do.
I will refuse to wear backless gowns for procedures on my front.And vice versa.
I will prove stronger than most anaesthesics but feel no pain
I will likely see hallucinations and become crazy but only for an hour at most
I will recover faster than the speed of light