Doe

Watching the Doe
Tip Toe
Like a delicate flower
Beset with God's power
To range and graze
The field in days
The scrub, the margins of the wood
Skirting, and just nibbling at the 
extraterrestrial soul food that lifts her
Beyond the animal, she still is
Yet divinity clings to her
Does not let her go
Does not let her go

Like some lassoo of will
From a cowboy riding a cloud 
She pulls along the sky
Draws the last rays of perfect, egg yoke sunlight
Breaking at sunset
Breaking the silence 
The absolute stillness, yet nothing
So dead quiet as a house
There is always the wind, in the leaves
The insects buzzing 
Or ducks splashing
And the doe treading like on dreams
So gently breaking them

The yet unshattered silence
Is her dream, 
While she is divine creator
Her world we glimpse
But in our observation the glass breaks
The floor creaks as she treads
And our eyes perceive her as an animal
She sees this reflection,
And reflection unveils the Goddess mask
And the world lies broken
But for the memory of her spell

Bee

He travelled the seas

He travelled the land

To the hum of the bees

And the hum of his hands

And his Queen was protected

By many a Bee knight

Though she was highly respected

She never took flight

And the Queen was a prisoner

The Bee knight her jailor

They hummed loud in their honour

But she grew the paler

The Bee hive needed a Queen to believe in

A perfect model of divinity in Bee form

In this Virgin Mother

Such a deity they perceive in

So her role of Captive Ruler

She was made to perform

All power has its consequence

All power has corruption

But the bee Queen rules her bee subjects

Without Scandal or interruption

You think the Queen owns her Kingdom

That she rules from the hive

Her vast reign

But ask her of her Bee freedom

She’ll cry To Be or not To Be

To you again and again

Envy

A ship named envy

Sailed unsinkable

Striking fear into the heart of friend or enemy

That ship, that ship named Envy

And Envy is a Ghost ship

It works a skeleton crew

Whose eyeless sockets stare about

In vanity for their sight curfew

Who may face this enemy?

The king’s fleet flee before its mast

Islanders retreat behind cover of trees

The beaches lie deserted at the last

Some are prone to Anger

Some are prone to Lust

But who can contend with an envious Rancour?

Like a ship risen out of a horizon’s dust

Some will pitch in on the high Seas

Some will fight though always to their cost

But those whose plight are the Envies

Find in the end their battles are lost

So when you search the horizon

Let your search be tempered by shame

For to know all men fear the uprising

Of the ship with Envy as its name 

Somethings, sometimes

I came to the last place of darkness and light
And saw in the last face that look of delight
As if a crimson flower, opening
As a blood vein full of life
When I came to the last place of darkness and light

I ran in the last race
The race that ran through the night
The madness of a fickle grace
That lets some win, others lose outright
By the time of daylight
The loser had won, the winner lost his fight
When I ran in the last race
That ran through the night

I pulled out of the mouth a wisdom tooth
In truth, it was proof of lost wisdom forsooth
For the fools mouth is full
His words over spilling
His teeth like a bad day
Kept needing filling
But the mouth of the wise
Is often closed shut
Though his eyes are wide open
To make the Editor's cut
So I pulled out the wisdom tooth
And found myself wise
But was it a tooth for a tooth
Or my eyes for their eyes?

Hand to I

I’ve tried to search for something more

But found something less

What ‘s worst the thing I lost

Was the thing I loved the best

On distant shore in Foreign land

I plied my skill and trade

But in each article crafted by my hand

Was the mark my creator made

As if a face in a mirror

Its visage haunts me still

And in its passing words, the manufacture

Of His mighty skill

It’s what I hoped for yes

It’s what my heart desired

But in the breaking of the mould, I guess

A new form of life was fired

Can the time that’s gone be had,

Again, any more than yesterday?

For what we thought was Good or Bad

Seems to change by the New light of Day

What I once thought Golden

Was only a beach of yellow sand

Just a beauty that in my eye was beholden

Yet crafted by his hand

And as such is all more temporary

For the passing of the day

Will wash like the sea

All signs in the sand of the children who there did play

Can I think it right?

Neigh, might I think it pays

To weigh rainbows with colours bright

Which in the painter’s palette lays?

Will the hand that writes

Be the hand that stays

For what is it than to put black pen to white

And hasten the Judgement day