Twin's birthday

 One day, one day

Two babies were born

From the tummy of their mummy 

Near the holy thorn

And they rolled and they tumbled

Down wearyall hill

And so one grew up with an acrobatic skill

And the other with a sensitive artistic bent

And she made sculptures that's what that meant!

And they both were tied with a mysterious bond

Because they were twin sisters of each other were fond

And soon they brought two babies of their own into the fray

And now and then when they're together Georgia and Elfi will play

And who knows what adventures both will soon be having?

But I know that I love them all, and to know them I am loving!

Happy Birthday Katrina and Tarn!

Penn hill

 Upon Penn hill

Where the pheasant trill

Their startled bagpipe tones

I am alone on cobble stone

Where the bridlepath lays still

Where is the bride? Whose marriage is

It I am running to?

And where is the altar of marathon

Who will be my bride?

Upon Penn hill 

Where the scruffy magic mushroom pickers glean

And hurry and harry the tuffts

That carry their magic bean

And the farmer who sits in his rover and scowls

And the mast's falling over

Because of the owls

The red planets are rolling down pen hill

And a mars bar a day will likely make you ill

The red planets are tumbling

Like bulls down the meadow

Rolling over dozing sheep

There is a war of bells

These red globes collide with churches

Knocking over towers, and school halls

And crushing cars parked in roads

Others swerve out their way

Out their way run the flock, the parishioners, the beadle and the cock

Who crows out his warning in tides of socks

That come falling from the farmer's wife's chest

The mushroom pickers themselves probably think they live on Mars

Wandering around the base of the Microwave tower

Sending them their digital waves, or beaming out to stars

Their mushroom addled brain saves all this as useable power

First they see the footage of the first man on the moon

Then Neil Armstrong is next to them feeding them from a spoon

Saying get better young man America will need you soon

When in reality they are in a Mendip field on a Saturday afternoon

Then suddenly a pheasant beater is perched upon a wall

Calling to his pheasant shooters with his favourite border collie

And as you jog the trees they toggle, in a sense they freeze

And rocks and salt all fill your throat with words you cannot say

And daleks from Mars remind you of those heady summer days

When all this dust, was just like lust, that fades into moon haze

And I can hardly hold it, the weight of boulders up the valley

The weight of feathers waiting to be exploded

By the shot-guns held in shoulders, or cradled in the arms

Of rich and upper class tories who love to tell their stories

Of how they shot down Mars with one moon shot

And wiped out the disease of the red spot

When really the virus like the pheasants came from

Jupiter instead

And Io was with Europa looking on shaking her head

Son of mine

 You can climb the highest peak

You need not ask when you may speak

You are ready and doing fine

Son of mine

Son of mine you dig coal

Down in the pits of your soul

Where the devils battle daily

For their meal

They do the deal with you,

Yes they'd steal

Your very heart so you can't feel

But don't let them take control

Hold your line

Oh son of mine

Son of mine you need not ask

Who is real and who wears a mask

Take yours off let yourself reveal

Your true face to the sunshine

Son of mine

I know you battle with alcohol

And all those demons who'd claim your soul

But do not fall into their snares anymore

The path is long, the road is narrow

With many traps to fall into shadow

But stay the course, you must stay true

To the good force inside of you

Until it brings you out into light

My sunshine

Oh son of mine

You have gambled

And you have lost

Everything you own on a single toss

But you can know you're not alone

We are all just flesh and bone

Now you are ready, and doing fine

Oh my son,

Son of mine

Love is a numbers game

 I love you, I love you to five decimal places,

no I love you to PI recurring

And every iteration of your natural number

Gets my mathematical motor purring

I love your noughts and ones baby

I love your threes and eights

And I'm at sixes and sevens over your legs eleven

And that neatly brings us up to date

And what will be the date when I define your PI?

What slice may I take?

How can they say our love is pi in the sky

When it's a matter of the numbers you make

And I've cooked the books, no look

I've done my sums and the simple truth is

They've added up wrong

I love you baby so strong

Like a towering line graph

Like a frequency diagram

Like the calculus of knowing

You can square my circle

In radians of becoming

And polar coordinates

But there is one number that adds up to two

That's when you love me baby

Like I love you

Covid carol

 Talking of the sacrifices that we made during the covid serenade

When death danced amongst our ranks

And gulls called about our flanks

The army of the nation marched on

Talking of the penniless arcades, where jingle bells played

And all the Christmas tinsel displayed

But then there was no-one left

To share it with - two into one

Talking of the typos left at the printers that cut out all our vowels

Like a samurai cuts out his own bowels

In the final act of hari-kari

Well I ordered an uber taxi and stayed

Well out the way

Of love or death and taxes

Ever-after

Perhaps

If there were a case of him versus me

The God of Him would win the

War against the 'Me' disease

But we are all so sure that

some cure will be discovered

That we never took precautions

To ensure

Our own egos

Were covered

And the personal personality insurance went broke

After they gambled all their

Winnings on some private joke

That went up in smoke

Or fell flat on its face but it

Was even funnier that way than saving the

Whole human race

And I thought that I owed her a family

At least

I thought I could own her

I'd be her hairy beast

And protect her from the wild woods

But it did not work, it all ceased

Just as the rain is too beautiful

To Cut the shoulders of sheep

Who graze long after we've stopped

Talking of covid

And tunnels that never cease

Where we look for the light

But darkness is a comfort

And too much light is blinding

And I can only tell

What my shades are finding

Volatile vol-au-vents

 Volatile vol-au-vents

On bathroom tiled floors

Corners, and mourners outside coroner's doors

Closing time at funeral parlours

Where the dead are called

To rent out a coffin for the morning

By that afternoon

All death taxes will have been paid

But I thought I was a European corpse

One said

I answered

Brexit has effected us all my dear

Now at least you'll know your burial

In a church yard will be safe

From the common agricultural policy

And no more shall the other world be mapped

To four decimal places

And there will never again be a corner of a 

Foreign field that is forever England

Yesterday Girl

 I tried to call you Sarah, tried to call you

Yesterday, yesterday girl

Tomorrow is a land we can forget regret in

we can sip the sweet cup of grace

And heaven stepping in 

To demand space

For healing

They cut the drug, and share across

The mirror of this reality

Cut time into pills

You may swallow each day

Say

Don't bite off more than you can chew

And I call you Tuesday

Mrs Wednesday

Mother Thursday

Brother Friday

Like the monk

That I've become

Mum is the word

Nobody says

In our vows of silence

And forced forgetting

It's a self-inflicted violence

Against memories

Than stirs and stain

Like tanning of the leather brain

Folded in and on itself

And in each shelf

A book of time is stored

In the cerebral library

But in dementia, the librarian

Has gone mad

Is destroying volumes

Like evidence

Before the Nazis come

To accuse him

Of conspiracy, or herasy

Or speaking his mind

He knows the castle cannot keep

The monastery's library

And it cannot save

These treasures from time's ravages

And the revolution

That makes books obsolete

And turns the leaf of history

Into garbage on the street

And in what dignity is left to him

In self -determination

Before the mind-controllers take control

He sets a conflagration in the heart of the library

In the nerve centre of his soul

Until all knowledge of his life and love

Is lost in obliteration

And the total annihilation

Of his word capital

Until feeling is like a serpent

Swimming in a deep primordial bowl

Making monosyllabic lurchings

For meaning in its soul

And almost reaching expression

Of the reptillian mind

When finally all functioning ceases

Back into the husks we find