Woodland Elves

 Their faces grim

Without a whim

Of any form of Welcome

The group was set against itself

And all outside invasion

A clique set, an in-crowd

They knew themselves

They would die proud

And glory be for glorified be

Their one aim of their devotion

A strong team set to hold the bridge

They fought like rabid hamsters

Against the other side or set 

To rid the West Shepton monsters

They woodland elves bettered themselves

And like termites they invaded

And ate up all the goodly jobs

Just like our friendly neighbours

But why hate your enemies

Why not love them instead

Just because they invade the territory

You yourself have set?

No, wars have been started over lesser things than these

I guess it was up to us to defend

The bridge and fight for Jane and Steve

Art bank robbery

 It's late in the evening and someone decides to dance

And then their seat is taken by someone who takes a chance

But he not only takes a chance, he steals a place and setting

Can you get what I'm getting at, is the chair just a symbol of you

It's an art bank robbery

It's late in the evening and the poets colour is draining

The tea and cake have worked a treat but in his heart it's raining

Then in from the cold come the foreign spies, except they're English lads

Out on a night,

They should be in the working men's club

Their colours are white their values are blue

But they've come into the art bank to rob it of its hue

They heckle at the singers, they cast their gazes around

As if we are all their enemies as if they expect the sound

Of tiny hearts a beating afraid of their cultural appropriation

But if they steal our music we give them it, 

It's an art bank robbery

A town called Mallet

Looking for some life about

Walk up and down the road

Walking to the North or South

But all I see are frogs and toads

Oh it's a town called Mallet

Looking for some life about

Crossing the roads and paths 

Hearing the sounds of parties 

But I get lost walking in the park

In a town called Mallet

Falling out with everyone

Everyone I ever knew

Because let's face it, there is not much else

Not much else for folks to do

In a town called Mallet

Every boring evening 

should be filled with life and joy

But when it comes to believing 

I become your like your little toy

In a town called Mallet

Dum, dum de da, dum dum de da dum

Neighbours in their windows

As nosey as can be

Lookin' out at what the wind blows

Down the streets so ill-at-ease

Here comes the love again

Behind Shapes and figurines

Here comes the love again

Just daggers and smoke screens

In town called Mallet

Here love is just a dog's bark

That goes echoing down the alley

And the river flows in the dark

Down the Sheppey valley

In a town called Mallet

I should have left here years ago

No, I should never have came

But I followed where the wind blows

No I just ran away in shame

To a town called Mallet

I think I have to leave here now

It's broken and it's torn

And all the love is an illusion somehow

All love since I was reborn

In a town called Mallet

Sheep town

 In this town 

It is full of holes

Watering ones

Full of water voles

Wooden ones 

With the weevils in boles

In this town of wool

Tumbleweed blew down the street

The sheep thought it was someone

they'd like to meet

So they all bleat

But the tumbleweed blows

All round the town

Full of it's holes

And the weeds grow up

Through the gutters and drains

And some have guts

And some have brains

And some had both

And they remained

In the town with wooly name

Some sheep the fold

In the card game

Cash in their chips

Look for someone to blame

Some have pockets full of holes

And they can't stop it

Keeping pulling the poles

At the extreme ends of town

Where the loose ends play

Time is black hole

I keep falling in

By the time it's over

I'll know where to begin

But in the meantime

I'll try to live without sin

Cause in this holy town

The wool is wearing pretty thin

And I can't keep getting it

pulled over my eyes

Like a wolf in sheep's clothing

I can't keep wearing a disguise

What have the Romans ever done for us?

 They found a Roman Legionnaire

 underneath Dobbies Garden centre

But they left him lying there

Did not disturb his bones

But it was a big cover up

Because the Roman had clones

Yes and they all woke up

From their Romano tombs

Some were shell shocked

Some they were mushroomed

Each of them had a gold cup

And a steel blade for their slumber

And it lasted 2000 years

Or a similar Snow White indexed number

For this is no fairy tale

But a real regale of regalia

Of authentic artifacts

A case so hard to crack

That it took a Dobbies employee

To discover it in fact

At night the garden centre comes alive 

with 30 legionnaires all dressed to the knives

With their shining armour

And helmet beehives

Ready to do war with a rollicking rumba

These skeletons dance and jive up the aisles

The music comes on over the tannoy dials

And skating, skedaddling their general dives

On his knees like a dad at a wedding

They have no one to battle

But he marshals his troops

Like a herd of cattle

They fart and poop

Out the metal

Of their chain mail hoops

And scatter the kettles

And the reindeer loops

They love the garden centre

Such green thumbs have they

Well is it any wonder

Since they've been buried in clay

For the last 2000 years

Why didn't you hear me say?

No of course not, where's the evidence

I think I hear you say!

Well it comes from one Catriona Smith

Who works in Dobbies Canteen, no myth

She washes knives and forks and collects up

Used dishes

She takes stock out of chillers cold

The shelves she replenishes

Nothing she hasn't seen before

The young and the old

The tedium and exciting moments

Of a Dobbies Emporium

But a conundrum, a paradox

A tale of the here after

She never thought

She'd be the one the butt of laughter

And jokes of disbelieving listeners

But laugh at her they sure do

For they don't believe the story

Of the night she worked the midnight crew

She was in there at ten in the evening

The lights shone brightly, the shelves were a gleaming

The stock needed replenishing it was Christmas leading

And she needed the extra money, her bank balance was bleeding

Then her manager phoned in sick for the evening

He was meant to assist with the stacking and heaving

But at 5 to midnight she found herself with a whole load to do

And nobody to help, or nobody she knew!

For there was a silence then

The air was still, you could hear a pin drop

On to the cash till

Then she heard bebop 

and in her veins her blood started to chill

Who was it at this time of night

Turned on the musical bill?

But it wasn't very long that she was kept waiting to reveal

Who the culprits of this misdemeanor were for down soon went the deal

The skeletons came out the closet, quite literally and real

They were rising from the floor board hatches

and secret ceiling seals

Romans on the carpet, the royal reds of Caesar

Romans on the parapet, the purples of Mona Lisa

And Leonardo Da Vinci could have painted the picture

But as it was Dan Brown was mad he hadn't been there

For Catriona Smith was the only Dobbie bobby to feature

Then the thing she saw was beating deep in their chest cavities

The Roman heart of victory that had witnessed such depravities

began them dancing on Dobbies wares

They danced upon the coat hangers, and around picture frames

They tripped upon glass mirrors, shattering into shards

They even brought down paint thinners like a house of cards

They say people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones

But what of these bunch of bowsers bowling all their bones?

They rolled each other like bowling balls

Down the skittle alleys

And stood each up like king pins, into bony towers

They took for granted nothing

Not even meteor showers

And Halley's comet sure could plummet

The rise and fall of worldly powers

These Romans they had seen it all

And even got the T-shirt

But these weren't buried under JD sport

But Dobbies so they were having a ball

Now these jolly band of brothers

Wanted no more of the action

But that didn't mean they didn't like

A little midnight interaction

And as garden centres went Dobbies weren't the worst

They just dug the dirt on Damien Hirst

And even uncle Bulgaria

They sure had a few hobbits caught down in their holes

And probably a borrower in a supporting role

Then the skeletons they looked at her, and best they could they glared

But she fixed their steely gazes, while on the back of neck raised hairs

And we all knew what she wanted was a payrise, this wasn't fair

The managers only paid her time and half for being there

Supervising the undead who looked like trouble-makers

As it was they had pulled out plugs and become bone-rattle shakers

But what has management ever cared for her?

She loved her job, but surely this went above what duty had called for?

But the skull brained craniums just looked at her then their General stepped forth

We are the Roman Legion of Sheptonia Britannica you may call us the "Twenty Fourth"

We came her in the year AD24 under the leadership of Emperor Claudius

ruler of the Gauls, the tribal brawls and Germanic hordes never beat us

Then we came to Briton and met the Celts on their Green Belts who refused to respect us

You see they had their Gods and fields of sod, and were cider drinkers

It seemed to us this made them cuss and also quite strange thinkers

Their roads were bendy as a Cheshire cat's smile, and went on a country mile

Once we'd conquered them we had to straighten them, give it to 'em Fosseway style

Nothing wrong with a Roman Road make 'em long and wide

However when it comes to the Roman Nose there's a chink to the side

It goes straight and then it dog legs as a bow-legged bride

Anyway it was Aquiline, it let's the water run off the roof

Like a drain-pipe if one needs an analogy wherein lies the proof

And also it gave us pause for thought how else could water travel

Like the river on its course it meanders and it unravels

But what if force of engineering could make it just go straight

Or over roofs and houses where it had flooded of late

And so we invented the aqueducts, viaducts and arches

Bridges over troubled waters, where calmer water marches

And so we transformed the town of Shepton with hammer-axes 

And built the mills to pay the bills of the Emperor's taxes

But we were killed by rebels filled with resentment at the Roman rules

These Celts felt they never knelt to kings from foreign climes, the fools

But sure enough we were stuffed and buried in our britches

And we had slept well for 2000 years hear tell beside the fosseway ditches

What we dreamt we could never say but to have good soak in Bath

Aqua Sulis was our idea of a holiday a time to relax and laugh

I'd say that was the best contribution, we ever made to Great Briton

Well you can call me General dogs body, but I canine remember any better

An invention we gave to this island of Celtic whelps, no better help

But if you want us to give a Christmas present we'll tidy up your shelves

If you promise to get us a ticket to Glastonbury festival we'll be Santa's little elves

So what could Catriona do? She looked at the exit, she looked at the loo

She looked at her bank balance and it almost broke her heart

But if she abandoned the shift now, she knew she'd depart

And have no job over Christmas, so she stepped up to the plate

And with courage and gusto, told the skeleton crew not to wait

We have to make this store ready by tomorrow morning

So I'm commissioning you good Romans but I give you a warning

I'll get you all jobs on security or litter collection

 for I have some strings to pull and some good connections

But Glastonbury can be a quagmire, full of mud and bodies

And if you don't all pull together there'll be a pile of blood and squaddies

Pooled all out over the pilton fields, 200,000 visitors all looking for a meal

So the Romans agreed to her terms and her need, 

and made damn sure they helped her

For though in purse strings she was poor, 

in people she knew more

Than the neurons in the brain had connections indeed

In the end the Dobbies garden centre legionnaires

Cleaned up well, tidied all the shelves

Put out the Christmas stock and respected themselves

And as the sun rose up, they returned down their wells

And bid her farewell and and returned to where they dwelled

Catriona was beside herself with relief, 

and happiness of course that nothing had come to grief 

Her job was still hers the store looked pristine

The skeletons had mopped and polished everything clean

When her manager walked in he thought he was in a dream

And on the spot Catriona demanded a pay rise for what he'd seen

And an increase for all employees on the night shift team

For there were some bumps in the night if you know what I mean

So next time you think to yourself "What did the Romans ever do for us?"

Just check the viaducts, the straight roads, the Roman Baths and busts

And if you ever visit the festival show respect to crews

Who organize and supervise, empty bins and clean the loos

They may be Roman soldiers from two millenia back

Or they may just be a bunch of hippies who enjoy good old scrumpy jack

Believe it or not

 He's the Robinhood

With his band of Merry Men

All Working in the wood

And as I write my pen

A felling they go like Jacks

Fighting Giants that them surround

In their Castle towers

With horse and fox and hound

Farther off is Maid Marianne

She's tied to a railway track

And her bold Prince Charming

Is racing to save her, breaking his back

Nearby is the Sheriff of Nottingham

They've been fighting him off, still

But he won't let them across his land

Not until they settle his bill

But a toll road is not quite what they had

In mind

So they'll levy a tax upon the rich

To give back to the poor in kind

Oh we're living in a fairy tale

It's a land of make believe

That all this stuff could be made up

You better hope Merlin's got 

Something up his sleeve

And King Arthur is riding tonight

With the goats and the Fairies of Neve

Because it's time to vote folks

Between the mirror and smokes

It's the Election of Midsummer's Eve

Oberon is winning in Hungary

Puck is Warlord I believe

Ariel has got her hair stuck in the drier

And is blowing hot air over Steve

The Astronomers would not believe it

For they had stars in their eyes

And could you  Adam and Eve it

When God heard that Jesus had died

Everyone wept in their tombs

Everyone even sad I

Eye had tears in his bed

But it was better than stick in his eye

Fly, fly went the moon

Fly went the moon in the sky

Honey I think I shrunk the moon

When I turned the telescope on the sly

Not much could be seen of the drunk sun in the sky

The summer already had stunk like a skunk after it'd died

So I banged my head and went to bed

And hoped it was a just a big fat lie

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

Factory patina

 Oh my factory patina

Oh my factory patina

Oh little star that shines

In that heart of mine

Oh my factory patina

Work 12 hrs a day

Just for the glory to give me my pay

Just for the story about me to say

How about it Senorita?

You want to dance on the factory floor?

You like my factory patina?

Shadows play on the factory wall

Where I park my Ford cortina

living on cider street

Living like an outsider

Always just out of reach

Living on cider street

Cars parked along the beach

Of this bobbing shore

vanilla ice cream clouds

In a pink blue sky's azure

Oh you like my factory patina

Well how about it Senorita?

Rosey apples shining sweet

All its juices running down the street

Dance in splashes of flashing feet

As laughter smashes up concrete

Living on cider street 

They made you in a darkened room

Compressed air and hydrogen balloons

All blown up with gas

Like a Zeppelin mass

Oh but you burnt so fine

Oh my factory patina

Just one coat on the boat

Where they're casting their vote

All to make the sun shine

Look at the shadows on the wall

They play like animals climb

This time of day in the sun's dying rays

Oh doesn't make your heart chime

Oh my factory patina

All the workers park cortinas

So how about it Senorita

Will you dance the factory line with me?

Up the conveyor belt of our dreams

Into the bottle of soda streams

Guzzling gas like limousines

I've got a rash feeling

Oh the red and the black

The red rust of night

In the lamp light

Black of the dust in the apple cart

That upset the boy

Who pulled the world apart

And ran about screaming 

His head off

And how about the green

On the cutting lawn

That little piece of wild

That made you laugh and yawn

In relaxation like a child

After the rising of the dawn

When the night has spun away its darkness

Oh factory patina

At the end of the world

When you can create no ark

To rescue boy or girl

From the encircling shark

That threatens to whirl

The whole thing apart

In a thrash and furl

And different kinds of cars

Just like jam jars

Full of sugar and lime

I ain't bitter no mama

I ain't no quitter either

I've got a heart that shines

In the rain and slime

As long as I'm with my factory patina

cider street

 This side, that side,

Every side you'll meet

When you're inside, you're outside

Living on cider street

On cider street they have your back

On cider Street you're scrumpy Jack

On cider street it's stinky feet

Walking through the sheppey leat

Everywhere another rose

Another garland another

Lily grows

You better beware before they

Stone the crows

Then frame you for their murder

And everyone knows 

Which way the wind blows

Blowing down cider street

I've got to take note

Oh I must take care

To count every vote

And number every hair

On the head of the dote

Who put me there

But the cream floats

On cider street

And if you ask me for a dollar

Well I'm sorry friend

I'll have to hollar

All things must go

Cause all things are hollow

Living on cider street

Give me a chest

And I'll show you the world

Keep me abreast

And I'll find you a pearl

But in great distress

I'd give you a twirl

While we're dancing

Down cider street

Give me a heart

Teach me not to sin

I'm playing a part

But I'm no linchpin

Right from the start

I knew what I was in

And its name was cider street

Rave in the tunnel

 There was a rave in the tunnel

They ran like Sally along the gunnel

All through the Springtime galore

And shoulder of the Funnel

Filled

But never runnel

Out of the river door

The beats were a blasting

Sound systems fasting

On the bread and water of lent

Ecstasy passed around

Like a new green crown

Of thorns since

What goes up must come down

And as they Brought him off the Cross

It was all I could do not to feel the loss

At the biting equilibrium between man and God

And animals nibbling at his toes

And Forest plants jangling bells as they grow

The rave of their lives in the vastness of space

And it was a time tunnel for those masters of grace

To age and not let raving madness take you

To Rave and not let aging sadness make you

Bitter as a bitter root, but darling in the hot pursuit

Of time and trust I feel I must, leave just a footprint

On the shore

The printemps and springtimes dance barefoot

Now in the sands

Beside the sea, that never sees but

Always understands

That magic is a mystery

And time a rolling beach

And love is a wave crashing

always just out of reach

Rich man

 30 years

Of trying to go my own way

30 years, 30 years

 And you put a big fence in my way

And it is thirty years away

But it still could have been yesterday

Railroad man Jonny

Steamroller away

Steam roller , heavy roller

The Ash trees sway

The wind blows through the tunnel

And the hours fall away

30 years tomorrow could've been yesterday

Who is the rich man

Falling on the pile

Another Mink lined coat

Another mill-a-mile

Burning up the cotton

treading down the yarn

Only railroad Jonny could do him any harm

Rich man, rich man

Won't you give away some wealth

You know I am a poor man

And it's not good for my health

I'd like to be a rich man

With my hands on the controls

But on the path to the top you must

climb many a greasy pole

Can you blame a rich man

For all the money he stole

If he stands upon the poor man

To see his dollars roll

And will this railroad reach him

Or will his pit black soul

Be as dark as a railway tunnel

Where the trains no longer roll

Building bridges or barriers

 30 years across a divide

Territorial suicide

If you see us let us go

How sweetly grow the snow drops

In the New Year's snow

30 years of treading walkers

Dogs on leashes and deer stalkers

Treading softly never stops

Over the hills of the Snow drops

Where you put your barriers down

Where you lay your claim to this town's

Hopes and dreams, her fields and streams

You cut in belts of Green and Brown

But you who judge and deem, and measure

Across our land it seems at your leisure

Saying this is ours and that is yours

Is one good way to start some wars

And if you should let greed rule your heart

Then throw away your beauty and art

For nothing sacred can be understood

Unless to live in peace in your own neighbourhood

And nothing built shall be bound

Unless by the folly of those around

Weathering the storm

 Can you hear the gushing sound 

Coming down the roads

The water babies on their bellies

With the frogs and toads

Flowing over grey stone walls

Filling up the gardens

We've thrown down all our cement bags

Now the bloody things won't harden

Out we dash with broom and bucket

sweeping back the waters

Then we lose the broom and think

This preparation doesn't cut it

what was it they taught us?

But who knew it would be this bad?

Who knew really what would happen

If the farmers take down trees and plough

Then surely water will start lappin

At your door and at mine although

You may live at the bottom of the valley

Of course we all know where the river will flow

It's just whether the river will sally

But one thing's for sure, we sure lend a hand

To help out others in need

Give them your arms and legs, hold a wheelie bin

Before it floats off down the street

But there's no need to play the blame game is there?

These things are just acts of God

Except surely we can mitigate against them

By not replacing forests with fields of sod?

Perhaps why not create some catchment ponds

That way it can slow down the water's flow

Some flooded fields further up would help bond

And allay the more tragic affects down below

Some kind of agricultural plan must be thought up

To prevent this ever happening again

It was like this ten years ago when the levels were caught up

Because the rhynes wouldn't properly drain

Why hasn't the environmental agency had 

a more stringent program of maintenance

Then we might have a case of Neptune's Staircase

Rather than a torrent, a deluge of complainants 

Let's try and deepen the River Sheppey

Make it deeper and broader

I'm sure the army of James Heappey

Would be more than happy

To carry out the order

Choir of Quiet

Shush, shush go the mothers to the babies

Shush, shush they say and hush them to sleep

Shush, shush go the train wheels on the railways

Shush, shush rumble the sleepers in the deep

Shush, shush go the pistons in the factories

Shush, shush go the Baby sham works

Shush, shush sing the cider in batteries

Shush, shush go the office clerks

Shush, shush goes the town's silence

Gone is the sound of the town's violence

Shush, shush go the copper cables and fibres

Shush, shush goes the telephone exchange

Shush, shush go the flies trapped by spiders

Shush, shush go the tongues sounding strange

Shush, shush go the nuns to their priory

Shush, shush go the shops of the high street

shush, shush go their shuffling feet

Shush, shush go the birds in the briar or tree

Shush, shush go the tides of the shy shifting sea

Shush, shush goes the traffic beneath

Shush, shush say the rocks of the cave

Shush, shush goes the gushing stream

Shush, shush underneath the limestone

Shush, shush where the stalactites dream

"Wake up!" say the road sweepers

"Wake up from your long summer sleep!"

"Wake up!" say the railway workers

Dig on, though the tunnels run deep

Shush, shush go the church towers

Shush, shush go the stained glass windows in pane

Shush, shush go the vases of flowers

Shush, shush goes the church warden in vain

Shush, shush go the leaves in the graveyard

Hush, hush go the mothers to their babes

Shush, shush go the yew trees that stand guard

Over the cradles, sundials and graves 

"Come home!" say the wives to the sailors

"I must go!" cry the sea gulls to the planes

"Come back!" cry the lovers to their loved ones

"I am here!" cry the others back again

 

Art for art's sake?

 When does Art become

art

Is it the intention

When does gentrification become

Standard living

Does an artist move in because of an opening

Or because of an opportunity

To create

When it all is just gaps on a slate

Wipe the slate clean

Erase a high street scene

Fill it in with colours

But the buggers will keep

Burning and vandalizing

So what is going on

Who is expressing a need

Where are the youth

How Are they involved

And who sees a future for themselves

Here?

Shepton Silence

 The drains glimmer like celebrities

In the sodium light

And families watch them on TVs

On some slow Thursday nights

The tree leaves are turning yellow too

And a sickness hit me this week

I stayed in bed

As the world it sped

Past equinox and winter seas

Come along to Shepton

You're sure to suffer some shocks

Come along to Shepton

Where we've all been put in the stocks

They take vegetables

From recycling bins

And hurl them at you in the docks

And they judge you if you're an artist

And they judge you if you are not

Come to Shepton in the summer or 

While the Church bells toll

While the men drink cans on the gravestones

While the youths are playing vandals

And Van Gogh cut his ear off

I told you once why couldn't you tell

That these kind of landscapes may clear off

All other escapes from hell

I lay my cards on the table

Yet The dog ran off with my shelves

I built up reputation yet

I couldn't control all my selves

Don't personify all the animals

The Llamas on the hill are not Gods

Though they look like enlightened beings

Still you must look at the path they have trod

No I come back now to St Paul's Street

He of faith and of fire

Branding the love of a creator

Into the dogs collars of a choir

If I shove the book off the table

If I even try to call up a friend

The telephone exchange holds the cable

And we meet in the middle and end

If I yank a wire

will it hurt

All those vandals with candles

Down wells

If you live in the valley

Do you wish for

A higher home near the elms?

 Do your wings beat like headless geese

Following yet going in circles

The arctic is one I can think of, I guess

But not one I mean ever to go to

Underneath us are copper and fibres

Underneath us, are caves and dells

Beneath us the water is eating

Like worms in rotten apples

The rock is like their candy

In geological time it dissolves

Yet we like miners from the North

Blast holes along the stream bed

Waking from the long sleep

the dragon trapped there by the elves

And we burrow like scientologists

Into the heart of ourselves

But like dwarves our hearts are greedy

For the gold beneath the mountains

Like kings we can't rest in our sleep

Until our coffers overflow like fountains

Intransigence

 The yellow brick road

Yellow in the sodium of street lamps

Yellow orange in the saffron

Of Indian Restaurants

Where the beige curtain twitches with 

The interested interior

Friend or foe

Interloper or explorer

Back from the pub

On a night time's throw

Shepton in the red lights of traffic lights

Glows

Stop it says admire 'no-goes'

And standing still

And stationary waves

Like the stations of the railways

That say

Just stop

Do not pass GO

Unless Go straight to prison

For that is remembrance's rainbow

It's a kind of trump card, wild card

In the deck

When you get caught out for doing

What the heck

And your life just stops

In mid flow

On the railway tracks

Where nobody goes

Except your wife and children

Who follow you there

Then wave up at the prison bars

Or drink down in the square

Where else

What else to escape from this logic

Of intransigent history

That keeps you in its pocket?

But you must reach escape velocity

Eventually

No, anti-matter doesn't fall up

So neither can you despite how black

You may feel you must

reach for the stars

And generate momentum

It is who you are

In this space time continuum

Viaduct

 To the viaduct

Go walking

On the long wet rainy days

With your dog in the forking

Of the long hot summer hays

And Dripping with rememberance

Of a past now left behind

When railways and Steam engines

Crossed the valleys of our minds

And all the strawberries travelled and all the red currants

Too

Like blood and diamonds in parcels

From the mines of South African fruit

And the empty arches standing

As a door stop in our minds

Leaving open the door to the past

And passage way to a time 

before

Though we know it does not last

Ryme and Reason

 Oh the church bells chime

As the tap dancers clap

Foot against pine

In the old methodist hall

And the old piano drops

Pounding notes that fall

Like hammers down a well

Oh the Rhyme and reason of it all

What, where how and why

Of Christian beliefs or

Children who try

To dance in time to the teacher's call

Oh how we try, we do not sigh

The rhyme and reason of it all

Shepton Show

 A is for apple

Just a pure comedy song

Just the way we can grapple for where we go wrong

Live and be merry

Die and get long

Like the shadows in the orchards

When I was young

Cow play of the herd

Instinct, moo movement

Turd ringlet, who ever heard

Of a bull

With a ring in the end of his nose?

Shire horses suffolks

Built like tree trunks and their buttocks

Not even the endless toning in a gym

Could come up to the mark on him

His great grand daddy was an American Stallion

Brought over by the owners

Mustang, no mustang Sally

Drive your rodeo out of town

Clip, clop, tightly prigged

Pony tails of the braids

Like their riders so tight lipped with bit in mouth

And dressage horses,

slim of ankle

Not these tanks,

They have no fur for the clay earth

To clog in

Shoed