Giant’s Table

 The Rocks have splodges, splotches of black

Moss spotted, lichen baked, the microbe rack

Faces that were once cracked

By the ice and snow

A shattered crown, a humpty dumpty

A Jack on a hill with a crow

And a crowing goes Jack now

His pock-a-dot tied up in a sack

A stick on his shoulder

A whistle on his lips

Hip-hopping over boulder

Tip-toe topping down dips

A slipping on wet stones

The rushing galling river glen

The flushing archipelagos

Of Moss, liverwort and lichen

The saxifrage in Saxon tongues

Lolling, lapping at the fringes

Watercourses bleeding through the rock

 

Water falling in dark singes

The high table land set in cloud shadows

Laid for a feast of the giant of the mountain

Yet his guest never comes

Never treads foot on steep path

Nor tows his flag pole up

Nor visits with his laugh

 

This cold place of Ghosts and stages

Actors rehearsing dead plays

Poets reading from never seen before pages

All is secrets up in this plot

All is hand tied

Mouths closed

You get what you’re given

And you’re not given a lot

 

These are the days on the thunder mountain

Where the crags are the stalls

And they echo their applause

In claps and snaps

And cracks in the atmosphere

In the buzz of the dead listening skies

In the hearts that crack and break up there

On the mountainside of the mountain lair

Walking to Wedmore

 Walking to Wedmore on a Sunny

Sunday morning

And the path is like a limosine that just runs on

And the river's like a swimmer's scene which lies in blatant sun

And the blackthorn flower, white as any nun

And Hawthorn stands in towers of the Chaffinch song

As primrose's sun's powers pray to all

And ferns are like the hallowed specks that drip and drop

I'm walking into Wedmore on a beautiful sunny morn

This is how the song goes, the song goes on and on, the song goes on and on

The fields lay so beautiful around the lightning swan

And the sun goes climbing skyward as the song is sung

Walking into Wedmore the sun shines on and on 

Beautiful sunny flowers on the road to marathon

And it keeps on going on

April amble

 The bee did wend its buzzing way

Bumbling hither and tither and gay

In the spring's new light of day

Searching out its food

The willow catkins dangled down

A clutch of lanterns green, yellow and brown

The bees fandangled in their crown

And danced a gleeful jig

The season showed its streams of green

Its colours bright upon the scene

Though wind blew cool then warm and keen

The Merry sun did brighten

And winter shed its skein of cold

The spring snake slid out green and bold

The foreman shouts take hold, take hold

As the curtain falls to dampen

And in the sky the stars appear

Bright and bold, wild and clear

The fire flies dance in good cheer

Of silk they've spun to lighten

And quests take hold

And nests appear

the young are bold

and the rest are near

As I walked out

upon an April amble

The heart's road

 When I go away I try to forget

All of those pieces of memories of regret

When I go away I can hold them at arm's length

And say you cannot hurt me, you cannot touch me

You cannot hurt me today

But I always come back, back to the fold

To the font of the cradle of birth

I always return to the home and the hearth

And the place where I first knew the hurt

Now you can be travelling a long weary time

You can be holding his hand or mine

And this can be our way together or apart

But that's just the road of the heart

When I am travelling down the country mile

I look for the clouds, then I burst into a smile

When the sun is all shining and the birds are in song

Then I'm reminded that nothing is wrong

When I am travelling along a steep hill

And the ridges are vast with an emptiness that chills

Then I see your hand in the sky high above

And I know it's all just a plan of your love

When I am travelling through dale and through den

And the trees they grow over and they are my ken

I know you're near me, because I feel at ease

With the summer behind me and the autumn's breeze

When I am travelling far from my home

I can forget all of those feelings I own

Nothing is stronger than the pull to return

From where I've been travelling the heart's road that burns

Life is short

 Life is short

You got to do what you can

Life is short 

Don't follow a plan

Life is short

Stick it to the man

Life is, Life is short

Life is short living in the fast lane

Life is short giving so much pain

Life is short and I say it again

Life is, life is short

Life is short living the dream

Life is short wanna make you scream

Life is short if you know what I mean

Life is, Life is short

Life is short when the shit hits the fan

Life is short when you're kicking the can

Life is short and then you understand

Life is, life is short

Life is short and you gotta speak

Life is short there's no time to be weak

Life is short you've gotta find what you seek

Life is, life is short

Life is short on the road to hell

Life is short looking down the well

Life is short and you gotta ring the bell

Life is, Life is short

Life is short and there's no going back

Life is short after a heart attack

Life is short, but it sure does stack 

Life is, life is short

Life is short, live it on the run

Life is short whether you're a devil or a nun

Life is short and God holds the gun

Life is, life is short

Life is short

And I wanna be free

Life is short and I wanna find the key

Life is short and that's what's bothering me

Life is, life is short

On the river Axe

Along to Marchy farm
Ignore the public footpath and
Follow the lower Axe to the left or West
You face down cows
Who frolick
And get excited
When they see you
You hear the farmers talking from behind the
Shed wall
Keep walking
It is trespassing
But only a minor offense afterall

Next slink down a little out of sight
The lower Axe meets the Axe proper
After crossing a maintenance bridge
Enter the next field and head north
Until you join the proper foot path then you are set

On the river axe
The crows are jacks
Scattered in the fields
Like pepper corns

On the river axe,
Nothing attacks,
Nothing lacks
And Everything is born

Westbury straight rhyne
Into it inclines
And the rustle of reeds
Where Veronica bleeds

Sheep under the solar panels
Sheltering from the sun
Laying down like lambs
To the slaughter
Technology's daughter and son

Thin, starved cows of Yeo farm
Resting under the Poplars
Who looks after the cattle?
I became depressed at the thought
And too much steel
The day wore on
I began to feel weary, and so turned back
As this was leading me further
From home
With a long circle to return by

Unoccupied water rat holes
In the bank
Like the caves
Of prehistoric man
Who might have washed
Their flint axes in this river
Hunting Mammoth near Cheddar Gorge

Old wooden bridge tumble down
See to your left Chalcroft hill crown
Then along Taylor paddock drove
Where I came unstuck
In the multitude of thistles
and rape seed and buck

I turned back and retraced my steps
Back to the river Axe instead
And headed East again
The going is easier
But watch out for the stingers
Hidden in the long grass

You reach another old bridge and the road
Head towards the farm of Knowle
Then pass it and cross onto the hill

Shire horse upon the hill
Flies buzz around muddy puddles
And cows stand on the prow
Baking in the sun
I chased one to pull some bailer twine
Out of its mouth - no thanks there

From there you run on down a wooded glen
Shaded and cool
With ferns and high banks
An old tractor wheel full of water
And the dry mud path scattered with dry twigs
And sticks

Then the tunnel opens out into sunlight
And the dirt race track is on your left
Follow another track until you hit the road
Take a right
Then dog leg-second stile on the left

Cut through a wild flower meadow
Farmers lifting high the bales
Hauling up upon the trailer
rolling on green pasture sailors
On their hay ships
like barges pulling through
drawn by grassy charges

Down moor drove to Bleadney
The smell of Chamomile
and borage
Bind weed flower white in the hedges
Bramble tight in the sedges

Bulrush tower like Massai sages
Swaying power of windrush ages

Twisted oak whose limbs are dancing
Old buzzard swoops above barren yellow
Entrancing, the limits of childhood ages
Time has moved on turning its pages

See the bridge at Webb's Rhyne
Tyres on the rhyne bed recline
Where little minnow take turns to dine
As part of the aquatic furniture

River snail hang suspended there
Like bats above a darkened lair
Foot prints stick to the sky
Walking on glass ceilings

Grasshoppers leap and jump in clover
They are the ones who think its all over
But then they land and can't understand
What all the fuss was over

With each step the field comes alive
With crickets singing
Bees buzz in the skies
Hopping from warm blades
Where they sun bathe
Their joints warmed up
In the summer haze

Shooting, teeming, darting
In the bow wave of my shoe
And scatter in my wake

Dandilion clocks tick on
Their seeds are sewn
The dock's rustic red
Waves  at Babylon

Buttercups turn their heads to the sun
While butterflies like petals
Dance and flutter on

And low down the bed of pink-white bind
Brings to mind, nature is kind
As the promise of sweetness
From underneath
The light hearts rising
From the mud beneath

Down by Marchy farm
The sheep quietly eat
From fields replete with fodder
From the hearth and home
Always living shoulder to shoulder
Though each will die alone

A little pheasant or grouse
Slinks behind the house
And youngsters are chatting down by the stream
The Lower River Axe again

Dry baked in ground
Cow pats,
The crows fly up like bats
They are chatting in parliament
And the voices of civilization surround
The signs of government
Return me to my senses

Pigeons coo, awakening
All is replete with fields of wheat and rye
An adder slithers inside 
The stone crevice of an ancient bridge
After it senses my footfall
Or the scent of rain
As from one ash tree to another
The crows flock back again

Farewell the steely time

Oh for that steely time
I have no words
For your love
Dragons spit
And Fire hails
I've a hand full of diamonds
And a gut of nails
So good bye to that steely time

The mines are full of blinking jewels
And my eyes see only gold
Where others see just fools

The dust and sound of a million souls
Is rushing down my throat
And I am that mineshaft
My blinkered mind is coal
And they will keep a hammering
Until they take control

So farewell, farewell that steel town
Farewell to rush of gold
The picks and forks
Of Sticks and forts
And tin soldiers in consorts
The iron bells
That ring their knells
Inside my lonely thoughts
Iv'e been down to the pit's dark well
And I've come up with noughts

So good bye, farewell
To that iron town
To the mud brown
Red Ore
I've flown the flag
For the Pit man
But I'll fly it high no more
In every crease
A greasy fleece
Is hung like from the lamb of gold
But all I see of the pit's prison cell
Is the false idols
Being sold

Good bye, good bye the steel time
Good bye the salesman
He's come to my home
With his comb
pushed through his black hair gelled
And he's selled my lovely tomb
Spent five months worth of wages
So I could afford my grave
Now since the stock market fell
I'll be buried in hell
Because I forgot to save

Well they hear my cry of freedom
And they hear my yell of assault
And every last man sees them
Seasoned in sea salt
Because my wound is bleedin'
Into the dust filled skies
With a whirlwind in my pocket and
A black look in my eyes

So farewell, farewell the steel
Farewell them steel skies
Blood oath on the feelin'
Down in the earth where she dies
And I know there is no reason
But it comes as no surprise
That the one road on which I've been reelin
Has lead to the dead look in my eyes

In the heat of the sun

In the heat of the sun
In the dead of the night
I carry a gun
So I know I'll be alright

But the Stinging bees
Begin to bite
In the heat of the sun
And the dead of the night

I'm at a million to one
In the odds at the fight
In the heat of the sun
And the dead of the night

50 times fifty ton
Of weight feels light
In the heat of the sun
And the dead of the night

Don't shoot me son
I'm far too bright
In the heat of the sun
And the dead of the night

The bulls in the field run
Broken fences in sight
In the heat of the sun
And the dead of the night

Who knows where they've gone
If there will be a fight
In the heat of the sun
And the dead of the night

The land is undone
The sea is in flight
In the heat of the sun
And the dead of the night

The baker burns his bun
The king turns white
In the heat of the sun
And the dead of the night

Blue habit of a nun
Black birds of fright
In the heat of the sun
And the dead of the night

Sermon on the Mount

Up in the mountains

Where the honey runs sweet

The Glen is heather lined like rows of springy seats

Feathers of an Eagle are found on a rocky crag

Pine trees sway in the breeze

As if a billowing flag

Up on the rocky paths of stone

Where the carrion crow hop

And pick apart the rabbit bone

Or a sheep’s eye goes pop

Where the temperature freezes

In the spring breezes

And an April shower shows in snow

That a fool may be locked in an ivory tower

With a Raven or a crow

What do you want to know of Mountains?

And why do you ask?

We stand as old as Moses

Mountain Ash grew his staff

Dwarf willow were is companions

The eye bright shone his way

Tormentil cured his stomach aches

And his food improved by bay

He clambered like a picking monk

Choosing herb and flower

The mountain ringlet butterfly

Bought him rings of flight

Through sun’s power

He danced among the butterwort

And down a cooling den

A mountain buttress had over shadowed

As a church may do a garden

He found between the cloven feature

A wriggling running rill

Giving rise to heath bedstraw, Ladies mantle

Celandine and daffodil

Everlasting were the purple flowers

Geranium in lush tussocks

Damp and wet the spongy peat

Facing out with Carex

These were rain mountains

The sky did shower with her gifts

These were old Gods now forgotten

But for the passing swifts

To these Moses walked in sandals

To these vigils made by Pilgrim candles

From these now we turn our head

As the living do from the dead

And yet these Gods yet survive

Holding Oberon fairy lives

Like Ransomed kings

From Widowed wives

They bleed their suffering waters baptised

From these Gods we draw our Nourishment

 River’s swell and Glen’s green Blandishment

Even now electric bulbs and bells

Are powered by their hydro wells

We call it ‘green’, call it man’s invention

But it is just the Mountain God’s intention

To keep his children well with water

As the fatherland set free the river daughter

And we drink and think with laughter

How well this Mountain does us look after

Facing North

The Cliffs of the Tower ring their bells

With Starwort Saxifrage

And Alpine Speedwells

The walls of the castle are highest with might

And the route by the ledge is demanding of plight

This fortress mountain in a blanket of Snow

Becomes a strange moonscape only intimate confidents know

And flourishing well down to their roots

Are the wood rushes and sedges, grown where the burn fills your boots

Little dwarves, little gems on a Rhinoceros hide

 Like some marvellous adornment to a most ugly bride

Yet the clouds are her veil

And when they sometime move aside

They reveal like a sail

Her soft and delicate side

But, then, her Majesty in Cathedral like organs

Are played by the wind demons

Who move beneath her brogans

These smooth Ballein features

Like slippers worn smooth

That lie like sea creatures

So still that never move

Her buttresses are ear-marked

With climbers rings

Yet even these tracks well harkened

Have not been fully listening

The sheer imagination that gave rise to the plan

Is pure intimation of what He will do, He can

His design shows such majesty it is beyond mortal words

No mind can comprehend though they visit in hoards

Just to be among greatness, to walk on its mile

To feel the rock of ages, cracked in a frozen smile

To let the Mountain know

That it is worshipped in homage

Come wind, rain or snow

They will seek out rare saxifrage