A Thrush

 

A thrush came to my window sill

About quarter past the hour

The ink was white upon his spikey head

As the winter air turned bitter sour

 

He stayed there for a little while

Pecking crumbs and dusting his bristles

A pigeon brooded in the pine

And my friend flew off

To make another sill

At a different time

Down on the Pond

 Down on the Pond

See the Swans in their silver robes

Minnow with willow wings in a bow

Leaves like tears

Every kind of seed

Many things I cannot believe

A man on the water without any bonds

Down on the Pond

 

I see summer come on a breeze

Winter leaves on a sneeze

A bittern booms across the trees

Hills stand on their knees

Like baby mountains waiting to feed

Down on the Pond

 

All is filled with song and seed

All is hope and life and creed

No one's chained and all are freed

Down on the Pond

 

Otters lift their heads and sink

Salmon jump as fish in pink

Waders walk on toppling stilt

As willows wander sway and wilt

And timeless teaming Gold Finch wink

Like a cloud of eyes that turn and blink

Down on the Pond

 

The islands are alive

Old tin huts corrode survive

Like supplicated saints baptised

Down on the Pond

They live their lives

 

Down on the Pond

Many things I can see

It is the 'I' of creation, reflection

In depiction of reeds

And all living things

Are catered for

Down on the Pond

 

Rain drops are jumping

Nettles bow to winds that are bumping

Livid sparrows and barrow's hawk

Who come here to do their work

And tenuous strands to human hands

Stand like bridges built

And Hide shutters rot and warp

Down on the Pond

on the Pond

down On the pond

Electra, I met her, now I cannot forget her

 She was Electra

I never wanted to leave her

He wouldn't let her

She said forget her

Oh weary old life

Of Carmen Electra

Burning with the gypsies

In passionate ship's seas

With pirates and sunken treasure troves

Her lover wanted to be near his mother

What did their life mean to him?

Nothing she said it

And wished she were dead of it

He said he promised to be

Will you leave me? 

Do you want me to? 

I want to know

Leave me yes, just go

So she goes to see the gypsies

Garden rows

 There are rich folks who keep em

and tramps who do sleep in em

There are flower planters, and potters and hoes

And fun guys who stop in em, and blow fly who pop in em

And blue bottles who blow hot n cold

But a garden will harden your taste for the women

Said God to Adam back then

Be they full fat or skimmin

Those full bodied women

For Eve, Adam was a fool

You might meet him in April with the showers

Or in May while he's weeding the flowers

Or in June when the boon

Of a sweet summer swoon

Is in full bloom in the beds and the trees

He's a goose in the berries

He'll kneel down like the Maries

At the feet of The Lord Jesus at the tomb

He'll park it and lark it

Like a Nightingale market

When the hobgoblins come into your room

He'll Fuchsia and Susia 

and cousin cross loose yer 

with the guinea fowl and the Peahen

And then they'll imbue yer 

with apple juice from a milieu 

of trees

that'll make you think of the birds and the bees

Because Sunday in a garden, is when all work must stop

Then God leaves his sickle upon table top

And he lies down with his missus 

And she rests her mop

Because the house is as clean as can be

And because the garden never will be free

From inside his green sleeve

Where he wore his heart for Eve 

Oh what can you make of the musical garden

The trumpets and strings and guitars in em

 The fluted lilies in rhythm go

 drumming to heaven like a lettuce love show

And I'm in heaven when I'm in them so 

Oh keeping up with the Jones

Who with begonias and bougainvilleas 

Are entertaining Huguenots And Astronauts 

And gnomes 

But beside the pond

Where frogs all frond

Upon frilly lillies with sticky willy tongues

The Combs of the honey

The ribald ribbit that isn't funny

But just when a neighbour is a friend or dial tone 

When your garden is the same as

Your next door neighbours

Then you should be very afraid 

To be better than the Franklin's or Jones

Who tend and water religiously

Whether they are together or alone

It keeps their hands busy and better

that than dizzy with petty jealousies

For which to atone

So dare you look beyond with your eyes

 oh outside of the gates of paradise

So to paradise market

Where the sales tags mark it

All discount prices on God's creation

But of course man will sell it

To garden gates of hell with it

Where it will be too hot to grow it

Anyway

And bring it home to grow it

Let the bees suck and show it

And just once you may know it

To be good

That at last you've made

a neighbourhood

but your neighbour's a pain in the neck

because she's always sunbathing on deck

She says you're blocking her light

 Next we're into a fight 

and nobody's framing the night

So let bygones be bygones

And bury the hatchet

For the next year a new government

Is bound to unthatch it

Just weave it together

And chat over the hedge line

For there's nothing better than the weather

To converse about to kill time

Spare me now Lyn

 Spare me now Lyn

Spare me your voice

Your shrill vitriol

That sounds like no choice

Spare me, spare me now Lyn

Oh spare me, I tire

Of always hearing the same hymn

Sung from the same choir

Oh spare me the shallows

And spare me the deep

Let me lie with the mallows

Where the lily pads sleep

Spare me your anger Lyn, 

spare me your rage

And spare me a valium

To write the next page

All I need are your wishes 

Tied up in ribbons

And so braid them like fishes

Swimming in lithium

Shining so metallic

Like the stars on the water

But your heart is so Gallic

You're like Napoleon's daughter

so spare me your empire

of nails and rust

Oh Lyn don't be an umpire

In the sales of trust

Father and Farther

 And then he wasn't there

I don't know

You say he was my father

I know he was father and farther

And then he wasn't there

And then he wasn't there

He was father and farther, he was father and farther

And then he wasn't there

And then he wasn't there

And then he wasn't there

It was closing down

It was all closing down

It was closing down

It was all closing down

Shepton open gardens, Shepton open gardens

Shepton open gardens

He was father and farther

Schadenfreude garden

 Now the fact is the father and the sun and the sky

Are all limits by which one must abide

And I have seen gardens

Yes I have seen many

There was Eden and Babylon

And even Gethsemane 

But of all of these gardens to which we give

Toast

There is only one truly 

For which I like to boat

For I dug on its borders

And I cried buckets and spades

And I gave to the cute hedgehogs

Their time in the glades

But I have no answers

To bring water from skies

When the dry weather comes

And the sweet plant dies

Give it a sprinkle

Wash its sweet face

For not even a wrinkle 

Can be found in its grace

Oh I guess that it's over

I guess the garden gods won

Who is the Adam and who is the son?

Man with his apple, Eve with her doom

They go down to the chapel

To sweep up the room

And there's nothing to grapple with

No twine or bind

If you lie down in the clover

Then a vine you will find

If it is in our power

To make a paradise

Then hold onto your flower

And close your good eyes

Make a wish for the garden

And let's see how your love grows

For it's all schadenfreude

Like the name of the rose