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 ...

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Ritual

It is a grey morning

I am awake early

The backdoor is open

And cool air enters the kitchen

My father is on his knees

Scrubbing a wire brush

On the fire grate

Newspapers on the floor

He takes a rag

And pours black lead

Onto the stiffened fibres

Then he smears it

Onto the scrubbed surfaces

He balls up the newspaper

And throws it on the hearth

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Sacred Path

we walked the ancient path together

where ancestors had worn the land

into a waypoint to the barrow

carefully observing rituals and customs

under azure skies we stumbled on our way

across this land of Albion

the hops the wheat the barley

bowing heads in solemn recognition

of the passing of souls

as we walked we talked of many things

...

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Pure O

Light On

Light Off

Light On

Light Off

Go to the door

Oven

Switched off

Oven

Switched off

Go back to the door

Go out

Turn key

Turn away

Go back

To lock the door

Sit down

In car

Get out

To check

Locked door

Four pens

In line

Adjacent

Squared off

Did I Lock The D...

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