Perspective

 The Ying and the Yang

The otherside,

 all opposites attract - love

all opposites repel - politics

The private

and The public

Always between the two

No one can help

The twisting turning

Turning

In the world at war

Turning in the family core

Because all is a storm

And all is calm

In the heart

In the chaos

All is change

And ever has been

Shepton Open Gardens

 Following the trail train

Like a bee come

and gone again

Threading through

The prison garment button holes

It's harder to escape

From cloth

Cloth-ears

And stone imprinted on the sack

The wrack of tears

It was just a widow's window

From where prisoners leer

The sadness hardens like mud

In the sun

It cracks

And new shoots have begun

To spring up between

When it goes soft in the rain

My face her face

The mud or clay

It doesn't make much

Difference at the end of the day

Trudging to the gardens

It was a pleasure

I must say

To walk up the steps of hallowed houses

Painted gay

And hold like a thistle your love

On Labour's day

When the work stopped

We all walked round

To give thanks and pray

Tell me how you did it

Made this hydrangea climb?

Or that Campanella

Spread out like that?

Tell me how you paved the path?

Or made a standing stone?

Or took a building made of glass

And called it your home?

Tell me did you paint your gnomes?

Oh did you sew those seeds?

Did the Georgians clip their hedges?

Had they the green sleeves?

Did their finger tips turn brown, then 

More yellow and green?

Oh tell me why do you where a crown

When you are not a queen?

Oh so la de da, oh so lady Grey

So the Singing night jar

In the tree of Bay

I think it's a Viburnum

Perhaps cotoneaster

Ten weeks, ten sacks

Ten nettles later

Seven letters to the council

Should turn 'em

Oh I love your Verandah

See how the turf does lay

Just a soft mattress

Oh see the lambs lay down in the hay

Watch out I think there's a panda

Hiding in the bamboo

Shoo, shoo, you fellow gerrymander

Setting up your signs of blue

Look out nobody's weeded

Oh but it gives a natural hue

I prefer it when it is needed

For it gives us something to do

Though we strive for perfection

There we usually come up short

And if you ever knew yourself

When you were young and foolish

Did you always do what you ought?

But we are given a license to F*** up

At that age

It's just to keep repeating the same mistakes

Only leaves you looking like you're missing

a page

When you're lacking a pen and ink pot

Yes though it looks like the rain

The pigeons

Still queue on the sill

And Even the crows

Know what they know

That it's only time we're

all trying to kill

Jackass and father's day

 Balls to boules 

the posh French prats

Off with their, off with their

heads

The Queen of Hearts

The Queen of Tarts

Baking all day again

The bishop farts

In his castle keep

Surrounded by the rain

The vain moat

The holy goat

The smoking Bent piranha

It's getting past a joke

I cannot gloat

As I'm sat here wearing

Pyjamas

Stick them up their ......

It's a piece of cake

The jack could fit

Up their ass

Jackass

Bishop's palace

Bishop's eye

We bouled them out we did

His eyes were balling

Like a kid

The Bishop had a log in his

Pull it before you

Talk about a stick in his

The green was oh so perfect

So unlike Eden

You couldn't believe it

Sacrosanct halls

Well painted interiors

Smelling of the lush value of superiors

Or those who give themselves

Just so much self-esteem

As God doesn't give them

This is Ego's dream

Riven from the arrogance

And pride of Hallowed halls

Where hypocrisy is the bride

And the Wedding vows are called

Just so You know The place I mean

It's the Bishop's Palace

Wells

On the Bowling Green

The self-preservation society

They're called

All things come to those who wait

It's just the time is lean

And As the time gets thinner

So the Greed gets mean

As you realize if you're a winner

You must swallow your pride

The problem is the tongue

Gets in the way

And you end up saying what you

Should not ever say

You see that's the way a beginner begins

Believing in the almighty

He realises he has everything to learn

Still at the age of ninety

Because it's not about your coat tails

Or the way you dress your pudding

But it's all about the summer days

And the mess you make of gooding

All the good and all the bad

All tied up in your old dad

Our father who art in Bruton

Hallowed be thy name

Humdinger

 It's a humdinger

And a bell ringer

A hum dinger today

It was a humdinger

A dumb singer

And a gunslinger today

They say don't finger

The harbinger

Don't you linger at bay

Get yourself a good winger

Make sure she's a bringer

And get yourself on your way

It was a hum dinger a real

Gun slinger

That shot down my baby today

Full finger, pulled the trigger

And soon my baby did sway

It was a humdinger

Like a sling-shot slinger

That laid Goliath in his grave

Thrown by David slayer of tyrants

Who stood up to the giant's tyrade 

He was a humdinger

A bell ringer

The shot down my baby today

In the shade of Sherwood forest

Where the holly trees stand with the bay

Beyond the prison walls

 Sunrise over the prison

The sun my only friend

Giver of life

The sun sets all men free

Sets my soul free

It says stop living in the past

For the past is a prison

Only in the present moment

Are you

Free

No man or woman can control it

Only in your mind are you free

Remember no matter how deep

A hole you're in

A little Sunlight will

Always shine in

And there is hope in the future

Hope that darkness will not last

Hope that folk heroes

Always had in the past

And despite terror or torment

Or destruction so vast

That the mould we were made in

Was a strong worthy cast

So set not your eyes

On the bars that bind

But look out between them

To free your mind

There are free fields 

And lands that were made for you and  me

Somewhere out beyond the sea

Summer days

 I've been awaiting

Trying not to be a hating

Getting up early coming home late in

The evening time

Making hay

The day has been lazing

Like grasses have been weighting

Down with their heavy heads

Sleeping in their way

Seeds lie a slating

Flowers bloom the grating

I am far from hating

The loving time of day

Maidens go a milking

Silk worms are a silking

Up mothers stay a sewing

Making piecework pay

Fathers are a binding

To their leathers minding

Uppers they're a lasting

Lasting out the day

But still the flowers

Start a wilting

Beds lie a quilting

Babes in cots a milking

Crying night and day

Roses sweetly smelling

Trees once stood now a felling

Falling in the forests

Where the Ashes had their day

And as I go a walking

Hear the chickens squawking

All the bees are swarming

In the warming light of day

That's about the Scythe of it

 Now Scythe me down

Ammerdown

With a sweep of your blade

The axe falls in the hay

Like the battles now past

And on a cool June day

As the snails slimed the grass

We not so grim reapers reaped

What lay in our path

Reap what you sow

Don't sow what won't last

The seeds of summer days

Lie in the earth of autumn past

Now scythe me down

Like heads of grass

Seeds heads, pop

Tall storks clasp

Lie like sticks

Of warriors past

Now scythe the clover

Scythe the thistle

As time scythes the lover

And the last train's whistle

Blowing passed

Like seeds in the air

Scything go the swifts

And swallows without a care

Scything in the willows

Twisting over the pond

Scything down

The stinging nettles

Of their magic wand

Giver of the poisons darts

Scything go the ants at heart

Cropping through the leaf

Scything pincer teeth

Time for a Holiday

 Twisting up in virtue, I realise all is lost

Just as the ghost of a curfew

Self-made photograph

The tubs are lit

By corkscrew cousins

That make I laugh

Because Somerset is so see-through

Oh the dalliance of a giraffe

What are you in Italy?

Now on holiday in India, Peru

How about the Himalyas

I here there's an expensive view

I'd like to be on holiday

Why not take a break

In the end we all are slaying the dragon

We've been burning at the stake

Let yourself have some rest

Why not don't you deserve it

We live in a land 

Of holographs

And I know what you've been going through

It's easier to live like a bored

English slug

Than take a hold of yourself and lug

Your English ass off to foreign climbs

Where the bees smoke

Hula's 

And love is a prime number

All for one and one for all

Keep wandering

 I found you in the bar room 

And lost you in the pond

While I was eating Hemlock

Like some philosopher

But stones get thrown at glass houses

And I'm just one of those

You showed me how the world could be

Seen through another's eyes

It's just your kind of cutting room talk

Don't give the truth a big enough part

I just wish you well

From the bottom of my inkwell

Give me a pen to write my name

Perhaps I can remember it pretty soon

It's just this cell division

I'm having trouble with

Meiosis or Mitosis between your soul and mine

You see like a weed I clinged to your roots

Now I'm drawing the line

I've got to hope for a better view

One with new life assured

It's been a whole bonfire of the vanities

For me to see the clear light of day

Because truth has a terrible face

And sometimes to face it we must pay

A heavy price for freedom

But what hope is there is in mud?

I am just a tumbleweed who blew right into town

And I will blow on out again before the sundown

It's easy to speak in foreign tongues 

When you were born to wander far

And I must keep on travelling

Following my guiding star