Sing sweet linnet, before I set you free,
How can you spend your life behind those bars,
Sing in pure innocence, like Partick, who's three.
Then, I'll slip the catch, open the door,
And watch you fly to the stars.
All honour to you, the noble canary,
Your home, a dark pit underground,
Little Patrick is unfettered, doubtless just as contrary,
No steel mesh or cold bar does rap him around.
Pale cockatoo, who flies with steel wings,
No rainforest anymore, do you see,
Tears choke your voice, whilst the canary sings,
You all deserve freedom, like Patrick just three.




Posted: 21/03/2011 19:45:19

Worthy singer sing
as the small rill flows, gently
free under blue skies
mystical, and hills regal
I gaze, I listen, I dream.

Posted: 21/03/2011 19:59:14

swallow swoops
diving divinations
I stand in twilit wonder

Posted: 22/03/2011 00:33:48

Do you wonder at
The glory of a sunset
The green grass of spring
The shadows cast in sunshine?
Shapes of flames fall from the trees.


Posted: 22/03/2011 14:33:11

A pattern once pure
Flames of gold or red
They once fell so gracefully
But now fall like lead
Do you wonder why
This flame tipped shade
Does not linger in light
But instead does fade?

Posted: 23/03/2011 05:31:29

Wild love
why fad and founder
like a wide rigged ship
that's taking in water?

When once
we screamed into the rain
and held our shirts open
to the howling wind

Now you stay
below in your cabin
and I pace the decks
seeking your footsteps.

Is this the way always?
in case we die breathless
becalmed and bleached.

Wild love
whose shores it seems
can never be breached.


Posted: 24/03/2011 00:44:40
Last Edit: 24/03/2011 00:46:48 by Cariad

laid bare, laid empty
I listen for your cries
yet the pounding rain
is the song to our lives

Laid warm, laid cold
to crave but a touch
but the thoughts are fleeting
the echo, too much

Wild love, you flee
to leave me behind
I walk now in silence
to life I am blind...

Posted: 25/03/2011 05:30:17

The world it is silent
The world it is black
My eyes open wide
But in sight I still lack

I'm cut from the world
But not for my eyes
It's the darkness within
That's growing inside

I try but don't see
the waves of the shore
I fight for the battle
but still lose the war...



Posted: 25/03/2011 13:08:09

The dream of death?
The dream of life?
The black cloaked man
with his holy scythe?

The dream of Joy?
The dream of hate?
The dream that always
comes too late?

On which plain do I travel
In this of my here dream?
In this world that I linger
where the world remains unseen?

Posted: 25/03/2011 16:23:56

Does the Grim Reaper care,
Does he pick with random,
Or is the Devil there too,
Working in tandem.
Does the spinner of dreams,
Weave his web with skill,
Is it Hell when you wake,
Or are you dreaming still...


Posted: 25/03/2011 22:08:33