Tag: poem

Where the world collapsed into an arch


I wonder who this stranger is,
Who read my poem and walked away,
But never  weeping
On a nuclear power station in Japan

His eyes were on Libya
But he stopped here,and read and then passed
On across what was once a green English metaphor,
Garlanded with daisies.My hero,my Odysseus.
The metaphors were made for you.
The web was woven and unwoven,so
Wherefore art thou,Antonio?

Do not go gentle into that dark night
Send me an email
I’ll wash you with the grit of shells from Dover Beach,
Where the world collapsed into an arch
Across nothingness into zero itself,the sun,the moon.
All shrank into this diamond.
I give it to you,stranger.

When words are the only

When words are the only way we can connect

communicate,

When words are our only link,

light

When words go wrong

Wring

our hearts

What are we to use to mend

minister?

What are we to write

right

wrong?

When the written is all,

alone,

When we can’t find the words

Wary

What are we to do?

Dictate

Dream

Deny

Depict

When words wound

wander

retaliate

writhe

Where are we now?

numb

null

naught

How can we make it up

Invent

In verse

Intent

lament

loss

love

linger

loiter

lie

link

last

least

locate.

Where is the wound?

Wreck.

Reckoning

Resolve

Resolute.

Redress

Where is our new map?

Meaning

Moaning

Making

Making it up

Inventing love

Re-creation

Return

Remember to forget.

Wrestle

Redeem.

Resolve.

No Retaliation.

No redirection

No harboring ill.

No bad will.

When words have gone awry,

Yet words are all we have.

When words don’t create a form

Yet direction is what we need.

When words no longer live

last

lost

We wait

Rest

Rescue

Retrieve

Remember

Love

lies underneath

lasts

longs

laments

lasts

and lasts.

Love lasts

till words connect

console

correct

catch you

cradle you

caress you

Conjugate you

Put you in a sentence

syntax

spell

magic

magnetic

mine

made new

murmured in your ear

mentioned

in my letters

write

rites

make right.

make us write

goodness.

Let it all be

Light.

Let me take your hand

Pull me up

I need a hand,

a word,

eye contact.

I contact

You

Me

Us.

When words are not enough

Imageh,words

when words are not enough
to give our feelings form
music is the language
which many find gives calm

when words are too clumsy
touch may be enough
a glance of compassion
may pull us from the Slough

when words don’t come easy
when music fails to charm
then come to me and tell me;
I’ll enclose you in my arms

gestures,touch and glances
are a language in themselves
words are not enough for us
We need  touch as well.

Autumn love

 

Image

 After summer’s  sultry flowers,

 We get autumn showers.

 Winds that blow.

 Leaves that glow.

 ,Nature’s wealth is ours.

Harvest grain and harvest corn.

 All  our food from earth  is born.

 Warmth of sun-

 Ripeness come-

 Fruits and nuts adorn.

 Trees are turning red and gold

In the glancing sun.

 Leaning down I see your face.

 Autumn love has come

Trust the unknown force that grew you

“All shall be well,and all manner of things shall be well”
St Julian of Norwich

 

Trust the unknown force that grew you,
From the joining of two cells.
Act of love, of self giving,
Thus to grow a newer self.

 

Trust the dark,the unseen aspects
Of the life we all do live.
Trust that there is wisdom elsewhere,
To your emptiness to give.

 

Wait in patience for the time
When inspiration comes at last
Trust in darkness,silence,lowness.
Opposition forms the cross.

 

Pain is bearable in lowness,
Like the worm in earth I dwell.
When I look I see the sunrise

And I trust all shall be well.

Deserted

The woman walks in a bleak landscape of monotone colors.
With child,she crosses this rough terrain
without a Joseph to protect or a donkey to carry her.
No inn nor stable is here.No cattle nor sheep
nothing alive.
Now she feels her labor pains coming;
Lies down amongst the rocks to wait
Here is an anonymous,faceless figure.
Pronounces himself a doctor.
She labors; he picks up her son.No Messiah nor Oedipus;
Without speaking,he conveys to her,this child  is dead.
Not ever held in the arms of hie mother
Nor father either.
He’s tossed, light as a few feathers,
light almost as a bird
onto a pile of bodies nearby.
Whose unwanted children are these:?
Still lying flat she observes her child
one of many there.
Days pass and strength returns.
Stands now and walks over to say,Farewell.
The child opens his eyes
Mother,they say,mother.
Holds him and presses him into herself for warmth…
Which way to go and when?
No signs, no maps…
Is there a right way?
Is there a guide?
Why was she journeying this way?
She remembers nothing
She has lost almost everything ….
Steps forward..and walks on.
What other choice is there?

You don’t love me any more

I found the message on your door,
You don’t love me any more.
Once you said “Oh,je t’adore”
Confusin’ ,musin’ losin’.
Why leave your message on display?
It’s been pinned up there all day.
I feel it’s such a cruel way.
Posin’,.musin’,.choosin’.
Can’t you tell me face to face,
Are you so short of human grace?
A brief letter would show more taste.
Deludin,broodin,floosin’.
Let me learn a lesson here.
I will not live my life in fear.
I’ll just shift into high gear
Illusion,fusion,musin’.
Once I thought that you loved me.
You announced it on the BBC.
Was it just publicity?
Amazin’,fazin’,crazin’.
Everybody has one life,
Sometimes filled with woe and strife.
Your loss went through me like a knife.
But,thank God I’m not your wife!
Musin’,choosin”,loosin,boozin’.

Geese fly by

Wintery frost and sunset
Wintery frost and sunset

AUTUMN

It’s Autumn weather, geese fly by,

Autumn rust,red,gold,so gay

Drystone walls edging fields,

Apples gathered,holly berries

Flash so brightly

Look like flowers

Sun shines sideways,shadows long

Of trees appear;I dwell amongst.

Woods of gentle beeches sing

Swaying with the sideward wind.

See their roots, all intertwined.

Feel their geometry in your mind.

Look up now into the sky,

See the V formation high.

Geese fly home at end of day.

My heart is moved by patterned dance

In this peace and great silence

My mind widens like the sky

And in this moment I would die,

So I would stay with this still vision

Of geese set out on autumn mission.

Snails in rain pools slither near

My feet upon the terrace here

And look,upon their whorled backs

All the sense of life is packed.

And yet so easily Life’s destroyed,

When blind foot foot steps into the void
;

In awe and fear

They lay down in awe and fear,
Of what their love was bringing near.
They gazed into each others eyes
And so did tantalise.

They lay down to gaze into
the eyes and soul of one who’s true.
They gazed until ,when overcome,
They were united into one.

Their souls and bodies were conjoined,
And thus their hearts were well entwined;
As honeysuckle on the walls,

In joy’s sweet arbours does grow tall,

 
Their loving lips and eyes and hands
Gave pause to time’s soft flowing sands.
and as they touched and gazed and longed,
The birds sang out in glorious songs.

Which is me and which is you?
Are we one or are we two?
I give you all myself today,
So this shall be our way

Your absence has so distanced us in grief.

Image

I try to feel through dark and distant space
To where you dwell in a so called “heavenly” place.
And you are far from those of us, who care.
Our hearts are dulled with loving thoughts not shared
Your absence has so distanced us in grief.
We can neither share our loss, nor gain relief.
I stare into the star filled sky at night
And see a space almost devoid of light.
I feel into the edges of my soul
I sense,somewhere, a partially dismembered whole.
Would new technology be able to aid my view,
As I search everywhere for some tiny trace of you?
How can someone vanish suddenly in the night,
And never ,from then on, be in my sight?
I wish that I’d been there when you went off,
Then I could have expressed ,in touch,my heartfelt love.
Shall I never hear again your gleaming tenor voice
Enchanting me once more with your intriguing choice?
Shall I not even find the laces from your shoes,
Floating gently back to earth through these  elm trees?
I see more flocks of gracious geese flash by.
Are those your fingers tracing lines across the sky?
Do you too see these geese from up above?
But you’re on the other side, too far from love.
And even with the very new best technology
There’s no way back now , so you won’t ever be
With us again,Goodbye,Goodbye Goodbye
I’ll turn away my tear filled green- blue eyes,
And look at all that’s near,as I’m still here.
I know now you’re too far away ,too far away, too far away ,my dear.
I know now that you’re too far away,my dear.
How can we learn to live with love, not fear,
As we go on ,now, down these coming years?
So sad that you’re not near,not here,not here,my dear.
Shall I sometimes, in the night pretend, you’re there,
Oh,that heaven were not  so agonisingly too ,too far?
As we slide down the escape chute of the years,
Like children clutching at our teddy bears.

Too far away and moving

 

Source: K
 
 

 

 

The sky looks like a Turner painting.
At the high point it’s brighter,even golden cream
Like the top of a bottle of Jersey milk;
then it dims down to a bluey gray
with a slight threat in it
like a blacker gray…It’s
Too warm today for snow.

 

I swept brown dried leaves from the step..
Had to move my bike.
Then I hid them under the hedge
So they can keep some insects warm in the winter.
But mainly I don’t want to bend down to collect them,,
I’m tired or lazy after the weekend.
I still have a dress here I was ironing just a week or two ago.
Now it will be put away till next summer.
Here’s a denim jacket with flowers all over…
I did wear it but it won’t look right now.

 

I washed my hair.It feels soft and pleasant.
I like that feeling.I am wondering what you are doing.
Are you listening to music or resting?
Or sitting looking down the road at wet fields?
I think I’ll make some tea.
I need a focus for the day which also has a feeling
Like those late watercolors
Everything merging
Until one thing dissolves into an other.
Some people like it but today
I need some edge,some definition.
I need someone to give me boundaries.
Time 4 pm
Kettle boils and a neighbor’s cat peers by the locked cat flap…
Wondering why she can’t get in.
I turn away.

Now the sky is without any gold
It’s sixty shades of gray.
It’s clouded dark and soft
Like your hair might have been
But I could never have touched it…
You were always too far away and moving.

Where is the world’s skin?

Image

I run my fingers tentatively

down your cheek,

 

asking you a question

 

with my eyes.

 

looking at each other,

 

you touch me too.

 

This is my skin

 

my boundary.

 

Yours is thicker,

 

like rubber.

 

I run my fingers down your chin.

 

what is this little bone?

 

I like it.

 

I like your skin

 

I like your bones.

 

I like you.

 

you please me.

 

you are tasty.

 

I like your taste,

 

your skin,your eyelids.

 

I like your eye here,

 

and your other eye too.

 

Nice one!

 

I like this hair on your head.

 

May I touch your hair?

 

do you like hair?

 

hair makes me laugh.

 

I have a fondness for laughing.

 

I love to laugh.

 

I enjoy laughter

 

I love your laughter.

 

If not, smiling is good also.

 

Or a gleam in the eyes,

 

showing the inside smile,

 

the smiling heart.

 

I like your inside,

 

Outside

 

and possibly

 

your backside.

 

your upside and downside.

 

your side sides.

 

I snuggle you all around with soft wool.

 

I knit you into my scarf.

 

I’ll have to wear you round my neck now!

 

How unusual

 

How flexible.

 

How charming.

 

How alarming

 

How creative

 

How interesting.

 

What an idea!

 

what a notion

 

but you are too big for me to knit

 

So I’ll just touch your hand

 

with my fingers.

 

and you touch my hand

 

with your fingers.

 

What good hands we have

 

with such fingers.

 

fingers are for touch.

 

fingers are keen to touch.

 

I like touch.

 

what would we do

 

without fingers?

 

I like your skin.

 

skin is good

 

We love skin

 

We love.

 

We.

 

I want skin to be ours

 

and yours

 

is mine

 

and mine

 

is yours

 

where is the edge of the world?

 

skin has no end

 

it’s infinity

 

au naturel.

 

what order!

 

what design!

 

What wonder.

 

what awe.

 

where is the world’s skin?

 

tenderly we touch the world

 

as the world embraces us.

 

It’s called love.

Love

Lost in shadowed caves

 Have you ever had a dream,
That you were all alone?
Have you lived with someone handsome,
With a heart like a cold stone?

Have you drowned in deep,cold rivers,
And been lost in shadowed caves?
Have you lived with too much fusion,
Till you drowned in ghostly waves?

The waves run down the sea shore,
Then up they come once more.
The tide turns and life alters..
Deep on that ocean floor

.
You were so beautiful and silent,
Like a sword without its sheath.
I should have let you take me,
The way you took away my breath

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

H

Love is about here

 

They think that they own us


I’ve sung my wild singing in time gone before
But I don’t want to sing now
Oh,never no more.
And it’s no nay ,never
No,nay,never no more
Shall I use my voice here…
Nor out will it pour.

My name is Allanah,or Eileen. perhaps
And I came here from Ireland
with outdated maps
And it’s,Why,why ever,
Why ever and more
Did the Brits give no votes to
The poor Catholics?

My sister and brothers
All died from T.B.
And an early dark grave
is here waiting for me.
But I bore six children
And I cared for my man
As he came home so filthy
From the auld coal diggin’

We had no free doctor
And no kind midwife.
So though my son’s born,
Strain is takin’ my life.

Always and ever
The rich will maintain
That without them this country
Will go down the drain.

But why don’t you try it
As a memorial to me.
Let the rats all depart
And what shall we see?

No,nay,never,nay never no more
Shall I bear my man children
No nay never
Not ever again.

I looked down from heaven
Where God has put me
What did I find
When out did I see?

I saw that the world
Turns round once every day
The beggars and homeless
Kneel down and they pray

Oh,no no never,
dear God help the rich.
Your son tried to l’arn them
But they weren’t bewitched.
They have their accountants
And they have all their laws
They find their amusement
In troubles and wars.
They think that they own you
But,dear God,you’re not theirs
We saw your son Jesus
And he said you are ours

So when will you come down
To make that judgment?
My pen it has broken
My life force is spent.

So it’s no,nay never
Not ever again
Will I sing my old songs
Nor  shall  I love my own man

Not love nor money

 

 

Imageonnet

 

Not love nor money should we seek to steal;
Nor for self praise and esteem be in need
For these things cannot ever truly heal.
And onto a wrong path must often lead.

 

Not to vice nor virtue must our wills be tied;
Yet by some grace we gently may be led
Our will directs attention which denied
May let our pride control our thoughtless head.

 

Not good nor bad can track the vane of God
Far from our sightless eyes are his affairs.
Yet Faith and Hope can be a dowsing rod
With Love the force to trace the Spirit bare.

Oh,come down,Spirit,take me as your wife
Fill me with holy grace and with new lif

With this song

Sky diving
I wish I were an apple
and you were eating me
I’d like to make you happy
As you sat by this tree.
I wish I were a blackbird
So I could sing for you.
I’d like to make you cheerful
And stop you feeling blue.
I wish I were the sun
So I cold warm your frozen heart.
And then your heart would melt for me
And you would be less tart.
I wish I were the moon
so I could protect you all night long.
But being only me may I
Present you with this song?

Autumn arrives

Image

I take pleasure seeing leaves turn red.
On trees from whose rich fruit we’re fed.
My apples dropped to mossy lawn,
My plums purpled from sun late born.

Stand still, then listen in the woods.
Hear the sounds of dreaming doves.
Shelter, quiet,by  oak and elm,
And find your self in woodland’s realm.

Gaze at clouds through branches high.
See red leaves light up pale sky.
The sun is angled now so low,
The trees their longer shadows show.

In what,at first,seemed silence clear
The chirps of birds, who know no fear
Are gathered to our open ears.

I’d like to live as do wild flowers.
Though life may last but one hour.
An hour of complete submission to
The bliss of love and sun and you.

A moment can be a life time too.
In joy, our love of life’s renewed.
Time stretches out in sweet embrace,
For us who live in earth’s dear space.

Image

Joy will return one day

6419415_506e1f1602_m

Some days are sad and blue
And then we feel lonely too;
Or we cause rifts.Some days are doldrum days.
Some days are like bad plays.
Not such a gift.Most days have joyful parts.
Most days we lift our hearts.
They pass all too swift.

Some days love speaks to me.
Some days I feel so free.
I love my craft.

Life is a patterned weave.
Love helps us when we grieve.
Love is a raft.

See how the sun comes back.
See how light fills the gaps..
Some days we laugh.

Weep now and I’ll weep with you.
I have known sorrow too.
Yet sorrow will pass.

Joy is not far away.
Joy will return one day….
L With life’s arts and crafts

Being alive

Being alive is joyful

Who has never felt grief
When a small gesture would have helped
but it has, unknowingly, been with held?

How many people have the imagination
to guess what’s in your mind,
And to embrace you rather than push you away?

No-one, No-one.No-one knows.
No-one knows these numbers.
No-one knows these names.
No-one knows how many feel diffident,
Nor how many feel shame.

Being alive is joyful!
Being alive is pain!
Being alive is all we have,
We’ll never be alive again.

I look into your eyes today
I sense your pain and woe.
I look into your eyes just now
And tell you that I know,

Being alive is lonely.
Being alive is good.
Being alive is pain indeed
For flesh is not like wood

You play on a clarinet

Music

Source: Kathryn
Sourc

You play on a clarinet;

I play on my old cello.

Your music is so poignant;

My music is mellow.

I can’t play from your music;

You cannot play from mine.

Our music must be transposed,

But will never sound the same.

I have longer fingers.

You have bigger hands.

You play some from memories

which I don’t understand.

I play from my own history,

You compose your own.

You have frightening feelings,

which I have never known.

Would you play my music?

Then it must be transposed;

but we can’t transpose our feelings,

Unless we are shown

how to draw out symbols

From the dark Unknown.

I love the music that you play

and I know you do love mine.

But can we play together

In some meaningful design?

Transposing keys and feelings

Is a difficult,dangerous task;

Much easier to play pretend

and never,never ask.

I cannot share your lifetime hurts

and you cannot share mine.

Is it easier to share happiness

and love of the Divine?

Oh,play your poignant music for me

with your meditativee art.

I shall listen with my ears

and listen with my heart.

And then I shall respond to you.

My instrument is here.

I am playing quite new music.

I feel you drawing near.

Suddenly we are moved to play

A completely new design.

I seem to feel your feelings

And I can hear that you feel mine.

Together we seem to make a work:

Torment and release.

This music is so tragic,

Yet its design has brought me peace.

Play on,play on,for now I know

I begin to understand,

without more words or gestures

except those from your curved ha

Lovers and other pastimes

 

Did you ever have a lover
with long red hair?
For long red hair
I long to care.

Did you ever have a lover,
and then another lover?
For there’s added gain
if you feel no pain.

Did you ever have a lover
who loved your eyes
and never ever lied,
and let you cry?
Whatever was the trouble.

You’ll never have a lover.
if you have no time for others
for love needs care,
As well as hair!

Here and there are many lovely people
who live with their lives with scruples;
if you’re scruple free,
then let it be.

Oh, let it be is fine,
Except for the divine.
I want to be involved
For I can’t please all the folk,
Who touch me with their talk.
My heart has melted down…
and now I’ve grown a world
completely on my own.

Were you ever quite alone
Like a toad under a stone?
Did you ever hear a groan
as you wrote your own poem?

For you’ll never write a poem
that makes me laugh..
Because my feet are in the shower
but my body’s in the bath.
My head is on the shelf…
and I’ve lost all of my stealth…
Yet you will love me
Evermore.

Evermore and evermore
You’ll be standing on the shore;
Watching the horizon,
wondering how the world’s gone.

Oh, you’ll never be a poet,
Unless you make notes..
They take you to the limit…..
Love, whatever is it?

Evermore, evermore…
The words seem like a roar…
I love your heart’s deep core..

Let me write you more
And more,
And more.

Did you ever have a lover?

One last time

You know you have to leave me,

Though you desire a longer stay

 

Let me hold you in my arms now

 

For just tonight and perhaps one day.

 

Then I’ll watch you travel on,sweet.

 

We take this last step all alone.

 

I’ll be here beside you watching.

 

I shall feel when you are gone.

 

May you accept, may you surrender.

 

I hope you reach the promised land.

 

                             Into this earth my tears will fall, love

                          When I feel your cold,cold hands

 

s

The Spirit Bare

Not love nor money should we seek to steal;

Nor for self praise and value  be in need

For these things can not ever truly heal.

And onto a wrong path must surely lead.

Not to vice nor virtue  must our wills be tied;

Yet by God’s grace we gently may be led

Our will directs attention which denied

May let our pride control our fuming head.

Not good nor bad can track the vane of God

Far from our sightless eyes are his affairs.

Yet Faith and Hope can be a dowsing rod

With Love the force to trace the Spirit bare.

Oh,come down,Spirit take me as your wife

Fill me with grace and  fill me with new life

Amateur writing.How I became an internet poet

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I must have had a wish to write.Because for many years ,I studied books on poetry and creative writing.I began to collect images and events which affected me in a notebook.Then one day I asked,When do I write?I had to start,  unconfident as I was. Time was passing Here is the first poem I wrote.[January 2010]

CHRISTMAS SNOW:

Too old for cold,I stand, now ,against the hedge,
Watching the snowflakes in the glare of neon street lights.
Darkness has come early,and I think of country uplands and huddled sheep.
On Salisbury Plain,shepherds watched their flocks
Just as in Bethlehem two thousand years before,
And then ,exactly when?
“Between the wars”,it stopped. Now we know there is no “Between the wars”.
And who decided
To cull the sheep and shepherds and the space for kindness ?
Now that same Plain still exists,but banned
And closed to human-kind,
For bombs ,not wombs
Nor for birth of lamb ,nor gypsy child ,nor Saviour
Where would He go today?
_
Image,s

From the first poem, I can see my mind was wondering if there is any space in the world now safe enough for a creative happening.After I wrote this,I was unsure if I’d get any more inspiration but I did

Here is a slightly later poem

SUN PAINTING
Bright sun
Paints a shadow picture
On the white wall
Dried stems
Of Michaelmas daisies
A leaf caught in a cobweb sways
To and fro.
I gaze.
Silence.

CHERRY TREE HOUSE

I love the flowers that fall like rain
From the cherry trees ,in the wind again,
And pile at the side of a garden wall.
I love the blossom still on the trees
Full of buzzing honey bees
Like an angel’s glowing shawl.
I hate the fierce wind that blows it away,
Yet I know now nothing is here to stay,
and I love it, and cherish it all.

The garden we shared

It reminds me of an East Anglian landscape
This garden’s flat planes of grass give the illusion
Of greater distance,the eye travels down them
To the trees rising at the end.
On this scene my mind superimposes
Other ideas of summer days in hot places
In flat fields stretching on either
Side down to the sea.
My eye enjoys the shape,the flatness
The form,a symbol for so many other gardens
And summer journeys on unknown lanes
Across new landscapes ,delighting in them,
In the space extending,and the trees
A gentle contradiction to the horizontal meadows.
In summer in recent years,what I remember
Is the sun across these long,flat shapes.
Looking at this small garden,I remember
So many things,my eye sees through
What is here,to far beyond
What has passed and what is to come
All  afd contained here.

THE SONG OF EACH GARDEN

Image

 

Every garden has a song,

a song beyond all words.

sit in silence there to hear

cheeps from distant birds.

 

Every garden has its silence,

special to that place

stand beneath the maple tree,

gaze up the crown’s wide space.

 

Every garden’s a part of all,

linked through heart of earth

stand in one, you ‘re inside all,

your spirit takes new birth,

 

Every garden can’t help but sing,

green calls out so sweet,

shows us Eden, long ago,

as Adam kissed Eve’s dear feet.

 

I gaze up through bare winter trees,

the song is softer now.

No golden finch,no sparrow cheeps.

It’s buried in the snow.

Deep in dark ,life sparks again

and the green shoots come.

so we wait in harmony

till our garden sings out then

I sat in the art gallery writing poems

 

Child illuminated
Child illuminated

 
The museum

Watching Plato shining torches into blackness,
Wandering through the galleries,
Sepia paintings of pines,
Pain came to the emptiness once my heart,
I sat picturing screaming Popes and babies.
Eastward, looking for fresh instruction,
My mind unpleated,like a pair of curtains
~Hung out to dry in equinoxal gales.
The bells of Satan’s cell phone
Rang again,startling in this silence.
“You had your smear done yet?”
“It’s me,hinny”
“I’m having coffee here in “Costa’s.”
Then I awoke,a man appeared.
How apposite,I need you,Ludwig!
I can’t fly my kite.

In the Science Museum,the mirror cracked
And from it stars flew out,
Adorning cars and bicycles and buses.
The building gently fell into its own reflection.
People flew out like gasping rockets,
Illuminating the blankness,
Calling “Is today the day?.”

 

Eeh,I ,Ohh. I love you so

 

I’ll draw a graph of Mother Earth
 I’ll need a lot of paper.
It won’t be easy,I know that,
But Geo’s my alma mater.

Geo came into our maths class.
We had to find her metre.
If we did then we could write
 A poem with which to greet her.

With ologies and eulogies,
The earth is deep in waste.
Give me some green graph charts
 I’ll do some cut and paste.

I’ll rearrange the entire globe,
Without a deal of fuss.
If anybody notices
 They won’t know it was us!

I’ll put all the mountains in the world
 Into one continent.
And if I am that way inclined
 The globe will look quite bent.

Ill put the lions and tigers too
Into Parliament.
Let them eat not cake but men
 And don’t charge them a rent.

I’ll paste all the seas that I find
Onto my washing line.
With less water around the world
 The weather should be fine.

Oh Geo was a darling child,
So promising and bright.
Mixed up with the graphs and charts
 I hope she’ll see the light.

I’ll put all the stars into a box
 We have far too many.
Yet only one sun and one moon,
So,would you like to buy any?

Geo return,I love you so.
I’ll give up cut and paste to show.
That you are all I ever know,

and i do love you so