It's all in the mind they say

Hopes and dreams at the end of another day

Clocking in and clocking out is a waster's way to live

We should be thriving and conniving to forge a life of our own

It's all well and good 'clocking-in' and 'clocking-out'

But I want to live before time runs out

Watching the clock all day, tick-tocking all the way

What's the point in it all anyway?

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Was I too much?

Too close?

Too heavy?

I still remember last winter 

When your fingers clutched me

The dark mornings 

When you couldn't let me go

I cradled you 

In a cocoon of quiet warmth 

I was the guardian of your shivers

And Now?

You toss me into the abyss

I lie waiting here in silence 

Suffocating in mothballs 

While the sun mocks me

But I know seas...

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all aboard!

and the table was full

as it sailed out of the harbour

eight cows and a horse

were finishing their course

as the journey grew harder and harder

the table it tipped

and rocked on the waves

nine pigs and five dogs tried to row

the dinner was done

and so was the fun

and twelve sheep shouted “under we go!”

the table it sank

down into the sea

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the silver birch 

it likes to hide 

so as you search 

at eventide 

you find it there with many friends 

playing poker through the night 

the common oak 

a wise old man 

an aging folk 

since time began 

grandfathers of the forest they 

speak myth and folklore when they can 

the sycamore 

with helicopter seeds 

sets out its store 

among the weed...

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The cool wind soothes an over-heated heart

Like snow on a melting glacier

As sticks bloom with green

The dark fades into light

Winters' chill brings blankets and cosy times

Films stretch long like a lazy rhyme

Bereft of qaulity like a poorly planned crime 

But, more to the point, is the 'family time'

Daffodils warm in sunlight

Animals venture as Birds' fly

T...

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