My little wood

So my copse has ripened to a wood
How many living creatures dwell within?
The shades of green, the sunshine, and the Good

Once we had three apple trees,a glut
Today, too old to fruit, they stand there still
My copse has turned into a little wood

Neighbours hint that I get my trees cut
Yet these leaves of green make my heart full
The shades of green, the sun the wind ,the gods

Once we read there was a total Flood
Now we have the bush fires and their will
Still, my copse has turned into a wood

Trees have their green sap where we have blood
They will never wound, will never kill
The shades of green, the sun the wind ,the gods

Just like Eve and Adam we may sin
The maple waves away my mental pain
My copse has turned into my private wood
The shades of green, the long path.Come, my Love.

How the famous died

Hawfinch_Northmoor_2018-1Picasso: Got bored by a bull.
Elizabeth 1st:Died owing to not breathing any more
Monet:went dotty and fell into a deep bed of poppy seeds
Cezanne:Ate the wrong apple.
Mary Queen of Scots: lost her head.
Henry Moore:Got trapped in the Underground.
Michaelangelo:Fell of his ladder.
Manet:got confused with Monet and fell of his chair.
Kierkegaard:Trembled too much.
Bertrand Russell:Got stuck in a layer cake.
The White Queen:went grey and died of depression.
Pascal:His heart had too many reasons.
Descartes:He just  stopped thinking one day.
Plato:The cave entrance got blocked by spammers .
Socrates:He tried to dial Ogg thrice and the phone box caved in.
Wittgenstein:Became too late for his own good
The Siren:replaced by a foghorn and died of boredom and rage
Salome:Her head fell into the washing up bowl
Delilah: was strangled by Samson’s hair.

The ladder

I fear  to stand up  tall on this new earth
One hand is on the ground,  my back is bent
Shivering fear, excitement, what’s  this birth?

I climbed , like Wittgenstein, a ladder’s worth
Then threw the ladder down   as my assent
I fear  to stand up  tall on this new earth

Far away, so far, the time of mirth
For sometime a lover I was lent
Shivering fear, excitement, what’s  this birth?

I wonder can I walk ,this step the first
 Love may die and who shall then repent?
I fear  to stand up  tall on this new earth

I see myself in black, the window’s bust
A man climbs out  uncut by accident
Shivering wonder, what allures  such birth?

I see in my mind’s eye  the incident
I  learn to balance  gravity with  sense
I desire  to stand on this new earth
Shivering, wonder, is it birth or curse?

Gypsies

I have a caravan but have no site

I have a home, but no house to my name.

I have four children they can’t go to school

I taught them well, our rulers have no rules

I used to make my bread I have no fuel

I have no butter and the milk is stale

Can I get them shoes to keep them warm?

Barefoot kids will surely come to harm

In Norfolk we ate samphire not roast beef

We had no English breakfast, that’s for thieves

We went to Wales and bought some bara brith

We found the Catholic church and went to Mass

Jesus Christ was all the food we had

We are gypsies but we are not bad