guardian (Remove filter)
Messiah Of The Fields
Messiah Of The Fields
They left me hanging on a cross
The saviour of the summer crops
Just rag and straw so no great loss
My blood is in the wheat and hops
I faced the black and vicious hoard
Their coal cruel eyes and sharpened beaks
I am the ragged overlord
Who scares the crow yet never speaks
They pray to me to save their soils
From dark boned devils ...
Sunday 27th September 2020 11:21 am
Recent Comments
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
3 hours ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
18 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
19 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
23 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
23 hours ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
23 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
23 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
1 day ago
Ray Miller on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago