Fire on the barrow

 Do you remember when the fire came ?

The burning bushes, grass tufts in flame

And so long sang the thrushes, the dew berry the same

I remember said the rabbit of the barrow

The fire lighter's shame

We ran scrambled, all the animals

The little snails in their houses succumbed 

Somehow said the sparrow, things now

Seem so different, just a passing dream of tragedy

Commented the hedgehog of the hedgerow

Simple like a melody, but a chorus of fiery tongues

Licking and singeing the branches of the oak

The elders and the brambles soon went up in smoke

The fell was swept, the dale dealt a terrible blow

Dancing in the twigs and lifting peat sods

Where we trod with hopping tip toe

The hawks circle above, no meal of mouse or shrew

They were but cremated martyrs on the altar of an autumn dew

Only a little farther the survivors had to trudge into adjacent treelines

Foliage to shelter in and watch the holocaust of barrow down

Strawberry liners

 

Sharpen the billhooks and rev up the saws

Slash the nettles and bend the stalks

That's what we do in the great outdoors

burn the brash and pitch in with our forks

Cut down the vine and stamp on the stump

Break up the stone with a sledgehammer

Pull up the roots and on bare earth thump

That's what we do in the great outdoors

Hack at the trunks and call the Jackdaws

Raise that old tree trunk, fell it to the ground

Mash up the muddy swamp and flash up the sound

The railway rations are coming back into fashion

That’s the Strawberry line volunteer’s passion

We are the Strawberry line volunteers

We'll be glad if you can lend us your ears

And listen to our song

It won't last for very long

4 hours of work a day on all fours

Crow the shrill rooks and caw the Jackdaws

That’s the Strawberry line volunteers outdoors

 

 

Bring up the dilapidated ruins of rails

Resurrect those uninhabited homes for the snails

Pull up old fence posts cut off barbed wire

And throw it all on top of our burning fire

 

4 hours of work, and nine of contemplation

Don’t sleep on the job for there’s no compensation

Lay down the runners let them have fun

Shine on Strawberry fields under the sun

 

  The railway line was bombed-out neglected

dog-eared and worn

Run down and scrubby, 

Moth eaten and brown

Hack at the trunks and scrape at the stone

Trudge through the mud up to shin bone

Break up the ice and burn all the brash

That’s what volunteers do on Shepton's mash

 

Run down the augurs and drill like thunder

Dig on dig on until you discover what’s under

The bed rock the stiff stock of railway stash

That’s what Strawberry liners do with your cash

 

 

In the firelight

 Oh foreign legion

And the French trombone

And the horn section

And each is unknown

And the mighty ones

Are all the landys

The landslides are coming home

Oh firelights on the crosshair

Of the pioneers

And the bayonets

and the stars and stripes

In the skies and wipes

And they wash their faces

In the fateless night

I had lanoline

Lonoline

I creoline

I had oilskin

And the baby wept

And seal slept

By the seashore Sept

In the October hair

And the firelight

Of the wishing well

Where the water's plight

Didn't do so well

I marnoli

I had mercy too

And I colour

When I gave it to you

Oh the firelight

And the moon is strong

And the Simon trees of a Babylon

and the hanging dog

And the dogging doo

And the day is done

On a pantaloon

All the way we go 

All the way we see

I have nothing more

But eternity

Come back and teach me what you know

I ready for it to be

A rainbow

Oh the moon is bright and the firelight

And we're dead on our knees

And we're digger right

So the science is in the moon is she

She is sheepish like a coven tree

And the firelight

And the moon is bright

But I can't see  quite

What you mean tonight

I have hope 

I have hunger

But it's fading

And I'm getting no

Younger

And the light is dim

And the people swim

In the moon tonight

It is everything

That I want to be

Oh the firelight

And the robin tree

Oh the firelight

In the lemon tree

And the olive branch

Holding out to me

I want you to see

I have more to give

If you don't like 

What I say I have

It is broken plates

They are broken still

In the Grecian tavern

On the window sill

And I saw you there

Right before I died

In the firelight

When the moon was bright

Come on talk to me

Before it's too late

I have you to thank

For my very fate

There are so many reasons

To be quiet

But they're not enough

For me tonight

Oh the firelight

And the moon is brght

And the birds sing quite

Like I wish they would

And it's all so quiet

In the darkness

And I have inspired

My loneliness

Oh can't you see

What you mean to me

Well I meant it too

Before we ever grew

We were not alone

Not for too long

Just the falling stone

Hit the frozen pond

And it broke the ice

and it fell right threw

Just like you and I

When we were new

Now it is gone

And my heart is hurt

And I can't be strong

And I feel like dirt

Oh need you now

To tell the truth

In the firelight

Was where I kept my proof

Fish in Cider

 Ever since I left that Cider factory I've had the feeling something fishy was going on.

The workers, my pals petitioned for something to happen, for some jobs

But they kept making us redundant - the old ones first, then it was my turn. I'd only been with the company ten years, but I was loyal and I thought it had a good future. So did my wife.

Now I can't bear to look at her these days, slouching a around at home I am, mooching about,

moping she says. Why don't you do something about it! She screams. I say what do you want me to do? I've done all I can. So to avoid the cold bed, I go out walking at nights, leave about 11 pm. I take long walks down the town roads. You know, I know I'm just killing time, and I don't know where I'm going, but then I end up here, but at the source of my grievances -the cider factory. And it's still rolling, machines are churning out something, ocassionally lorries go in and out. I don't see people though.

It must be all automated now I think to myself. That's right Terry, nothing left for the average Joe to do these days. But because it's piqued my curiosity I decide to take a closer look. I walk down the road, the yellowish street lamps giving off a sickening glare, there's one though that is off and there is more cover here, so I dive into the shadows next to the factory wall. Just going to take a peek, I tell myself, where's the harm in that? The windows though are high up and I will need to use the lamp post and jam myself between it and use it to help edge myself up the wall. Still got it Terry I tell myself but really I'm out of my comfort zone, I'm 45 this year and I could do with shaving off a few pounds. Still where I've got to there is a bit of a concrete ledge cut into the wall about 12ft up and another 6 ft up from that the window pane starts. I just about manage to cling my fingers onto the window ledge and carefully I pull my head and eyes up enough to look in. There is a hum of activity, of machines mainly. I see some men there. The usual cider machines have changed a bit, it seems they've added a few extra ones too on a different line, I can't quite see enough and I feel my strength failing me so I lower myself back down and shimmy down the lamp post.

What could they be doing? What do they need an extra line for? Is it food or drink? The used to make Baby cham as well I remember.

I keep walking the night is getting cold, it must be about 1 am and I'm thinking of calling it a night and turning in. And then I see something I wasn't expecting, wasn't expecting at all. A lorry pulls up, and reverses into the docking bay. It looks like an animal transport like a sheep truck or the like. I'm too visible so I slink into the cover of some trees on the otherside of the road. But I still watch.

A man steps out, kind of stocky with a cap on and I can't make out his face. Not a town person that much I recognize. He hands a slip of paper to one of the men there at the bay and others start to unload crates of what look dark things, I catch glimpses of fur. Then they pull down dressing rods on wheels. But what are hanging down from them on hooks are not dresses, but cadavers, animal cadavers. I can see deer and badger, some foxes even. And then they are finished, the bodies taken inside the factory and the man gets back inside his cab and drives off.

This seem strange, so strange. I wait and think hidden in the bushes. And I am just about to step out when a flashlight searches about the road up and down looking for anyone and then the shut the doors and turn off the lights on that side of the building.

What could they want with dead animals? Surely they weren't going to eat them?

A flash in the pan

 The midwives were busying themselves on the ward

The porters were portering, and the waiting patients looked bored

Nothing much was happening, it was the usual rap

When a certain tap-tapping began to tap

The matron cried "Ahoy there! I smell smoke between the sheets,

Either some aberrant's been smoking or there's a fire on the beat."

Just then the fire alarm rang out, a wailing, chilling sound 

And it stopped the matron somewhere abouts in the middle her round

 

The hospital crew acted bravely to carry out the matron's orders 

She told them to remove the mothers to safty in out-the-way borders

Down the stairs they went flying, like refugees they were sighing

But lucky they were to be evacuated in the nick of time from the scene

as smoke circulated around the bedpan macerating machine

Just then the fire brigade rocked up with their hard hats and their hoses

And they told all those locked up to hold on tight to their noses

And they stormed right up the stairwell, to fight the fire, and quell its flame

But none of them were to know then the bedpan by its burning name

The new mothers stared on with the look of those who had been stunned,

As they held their babes in arms took on the look of Mary or of nuns

But stern they were of will to survive this great ordeal

Hoping in their hearts that they might soon get a meal

Though the babes in arms were yet crying, 

the mothers charms they still kept trying

Until a calm had settled down upon the congregation

When a man decided to have a myocardial infarction

So as the midwives were treating this unfortunate chap

The firemen were charging through for a second lap   

 

The matron then in her most commanding voice

called for calm and order as if they had no choice

So in the end nirvana was again restored

And the patients kept on waiting and the waiting ones got bored

And the man who had been waiting to be seen

Now he had been seen he couldn't wait to leave

And as the last of the bedpan flames were quenched

The sad looking macerating machine was drenched

And luckily nobody's mother's waters broke

So they all trudged back up the stairs thinking what a joke

Because you know they say it never rains but it pours

Which is what they should write on the A and E doors

And all these things were sent to try us

Including bedpan macerating machine fires

And so before you ask if you can use the can

You better be sure it's not for a flash in the pan

French Toast

Cows drop in the shucks

Flies blacken out the books

Matches light the fire

Under bushes of thorn

The parson passes hours

Handing out the flowers

Like prayers around the houses

But he still ties his boot

The time is like twine wound

Clocks go round and round

Minutes of the rainfall

Entered in the log of crooks

Meetings undercover

And above their lovers

Fall over in the fallen rain

Trying to get cute

Chosen cheeses tumble

From the turnstile table

Baroque and broken Rococco

Furniture lay in pieces

Breadcrumbs of the madams

Leaving trails for Hansel

And Gretel to come wandering

To the house of ill repute

Every ant will wire

A message to their mother

In code between the covers

They know no one can shoot

Chambermaids go hungry

Next to pigs potbellies

Freedom wears an iron mask

No questions can be asked

By the red army recruit

I hold you in decision

Of a natural derision

Open courts are far from

Penny worth arcades

Z cars make the freeway

Superstars on the highway

While singing bums sing myway

Out beyond the Christmas Parade

And St Patrick is in his tower 

struddling some snakes

For their only mistake

Was to justify their God

Dogs howl in the moonlight

Inside the garden of paradise

She is free from fire

And I am free from ice

If you see them coming,

You better ask for the magazine

They will shoot your picture

And leave your soul outside

The fruits of harbour waiver

Inside the semiquaver

Struck up upon a drum

Of black mirrors to the sun

And every hawk is heard

To cry in human words

The needs so babies come

Across the image

Of the one

In flashes

I see you in flashes like in the storm
Like blood surges that keep me warm
I see you in flashes through the rain
Lightening crashes through my brain

I see you in flashes through the years
Some days like nights, some nights are clear
Some final thunder crashing fears
But I see you in flashes through my tears

There is no name for this flame
Anonymous giver of great fame
The love that lasts a thousand years
The love that laughs all through the tears

The love that jokes, but jokes in vain
When the last laugh leaves you out in the rain
The love that rules from some high up throne
The pearls of wisdom turned tears of stone

Come step down to the mortal plain
Where Angels tread, you're not alone
I see them clear through my window pane
Just like the flashes through the rain

The well of life, the Liverpool
Where the liver birds sit on a ducking stool
The sounds escape, the fury fuels
Another tape around another fool

And deep down mercy draws its fill
From the lake of glory
And destiny's hill
We tell its story
We tell it still
Til morning is hoary
Til the frost it chills

I put my life in your hands
We walk along the wet sands
Our foot prints leave their soul mark
Like signs of life, flashes in the dark

The speed of love, the speed of light
The root of God over men who fight
Angels gather on yonder hill
Can we count how many
The lightning strikes will kill
How many shall live
How many shall die
The power to give
Falls from heaven's sky
It falls not heavy on hoary heads
It falls equal on cowards, clowns and crowns
Its quality like an elixir
Gives a second chance
To the man in the mirror

Seen in flashes of a hope unknown
The rain spoken in splashes on a telephone
The line goes dead
But I hang on
Even in my head
I know my heart lives on

We reconnect when she picks up
After the storm inside the coffee cup
After the night has cooled the drinks
The moon does rise as the sun it sinks

Way across the ocean her image I glean
In flashes the moon like a ship I've seen
Rising up into a foreign sky
But so familiar like a kind of spy

The thunder bolt is in my hand
The power I hold I can't understand
I am no God I'm just a man
No golden calf, lion nor a lamb
Do I throw the dice, leave it up to fate
Am I too early give or to late to try?
Do I let her live or do I let her die?