Cursed or Blessed

Oh the pain and pleasure

of the living soul

The agony or the ecstasy

It’s our decision

Individually alone to make

So inconsequentially

Which road to take

The living hell

Each breath does make

Oh fool you of the fleshy bondage

Are you not at all aware

of the irony of your senseless groping

The endless pain of love forsaken

Or the noncommittal chances taken

On a grand scale of nothing ventured

Nothing gained

From all loves pleasures

I accept the hollow glow of witching hour
and allow it to hold me tight,
immerse and enthral me.
Cast it’s spell against tormented light.

I feel the night consume me.
exhale a calm and even breath.
Sink into the obscurity of my life.
Staving off grim death.

Devour and suck the marrow,
Pick me clean of my plight.
Body ready for fight or flight.

Hr. H. marmalade high

We’ve had our own war it seems
closing down shops, one was called
Fortnum and Masons, where the rich
spend, and we can but only
spend time, well we can’t go
around always’ like the Ostrich.

Some were arrested, others hurt
a policeman’s pride at not being
able to protect Lizzie’s marmalade shop.
Think it’s closed today, tired from
all the cleaning, heard them say “untidy
that lot did you see the hairstyles?

Think of the song, your own music…

Love Land

There is a place among the clouds where music plays, sweet and low.
It is a place where love and lovers continue to go.
Where loves never grow old or cease.
It is a place where there reins serenity, and peace.

Honeysuckle hangs from every latticed walk.
Roses fill the air with fragrance thick.
Where lovers go hand in hand as they talk.
Where jasmine, scents the starlit nights.