Looking out across the water
\nThe stillness but a dream
\nLily pad float gently
\nAnd all of this would seem
\nMagical creative forms
\nOn a perfect Summers day
\nWhere pretty butterflies abound
\nAnd where dandelion clocks spray<\/p>\n
A fox sits by a willow
\nEvery line and tuft of hair
\nExquisite in that lovely light
\nAnd clearly so aware
\nHer amber eyes so beautiful
\nReflects the mood so free
\nStaring in the distance
\nSeeing what she could see<\/p>\n
The tranquil mirrored surface where
\nLife itself erupts
\nShadows rainbow nuances
\nThis whole scene sees cups
\nOf bounteous flowers,descending
\nTheir whiteness serves the peace
\nAnd outside this panorama
\nWonder fail to cease<\/p>\n
This is life and my countryside
\nDo not deny me this
\nThe beauty is not just mine alone
\nTo share
\nOr yes to miss
\nIt’s a veritable picture
\nA chapter lets us say
\nIn the story of my life
\nWhich includes this precious day<\/p>\n
Big hind me I hear yelping
\nExcitability
\nImpetuous behaviour
\nIt’s mercurial for me
\nThe skittish uncontrollable
\nHounds I hear them they
\nAre seething with volcanic froth
\nAll about to make their play
\nShe chaperones me everywhere
\nEvery single day<\/p>\n
no manacle now binds me
\nI am free to run, but I
\nAm prevented by the darkness
\nThat’s growing I the sky
\nThe clouds are in a tussle
\nThe wind is wholly strong
\nThe power of it is unlimited
\nIt’s to where I do belong<\/p>\n
I hold a scent of wildness
\nA signature, a seal
\nA plight a word of honour
\nA denial, that’s it’s real
\nA keeper of the natural world
\nMy earth mother she knows
\nThe liberty I am after
\nIt’s there between my toes<\/p>\n
Have I the defence. I am after
\nThe barricade to where
\nWhen the bullets flew across
\nThe posture of despair
\nMy adversary was powerful
\nWith assailants everywhere
\nA helplessness streams over me
\nIt just did not seem fair<\/p>\n
Why do people want this
\nWhy not just look and see
\nWhy on earth should we kill
\nThe fatted calf
\nIt won’t hurt thee
\nNot in a month of Sundays
\nIf ever that could be<\/p>\n
Is there somewhere a bolt hole
\nA decorative display
\nBluebells come to dance a jig
\nWithin the forest ray
\nEscape seems pretty sensible
\nA sanctum. For to see
\nA bloodied town of faces
\nCasting judgement over me<\/p>\n
My earth my strengthened citadel
\nMy asylum and support
\nDanger lurks just everywhere
\nEven if it’s not sought
\nWhat is in fact perfection
\nFlawless ness and more
\nIs a consummate disorder
\nAside of natural law<\/p>\n
And they are on my case now
\nA plague of tempered brutes
\nUnworthy of my distance
\nCalamitous at the roots
\nAn inutility of purpose
\nA consequence of fear
\nThey were almost upon me
\nTell I ran away from here<\/p>\n
Pursuing me like crazy
\nOppressing me on sight
\nTheir intention one of evil
\nThe driving force to bite<\/p>\n
A compendium of villains
\nCrowds around to catch
\nA picture of the ugliness
\nThat someone has to hatch
\nTo cast re hearse and panic
\nThe perspicuous ideal
\nLaboured and mellifluous
\nAnd never worth a steal<\/p>\n
I was one that got away
\nWithout SABs on my back
\nI was the one just spaced out
\nNo one dare attack
\nThe war games of the hunters
\nThe credibility
\nThe pathological moments
\nOf when we all got free<\/p>\n
The original inventiveness
\nThe little bits of pain
\nAll in my psyche every single moment
\nThe disdain
\nI hold which perhaps for ever
\nI will cart them all around
\nPerplexed in how to treat them
\nWhen I am caught short on the ground<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Looking out across the water The stillness but a dream Lily pad float gently And all of this would seem Magical creative forms On a perfect Summers day Where pretty butterflies abound And where dandelion clocks spray A fox sits … Continue reading