Christmas

T'was the night before Christmas,
And all the good little children,
Were putting out their mince pies for Santa,
(Not forgetting the carrots for Donder and Blitzen.)
Every home was filled with joy,
As every child young and old,
Secretly prayed for snow to fall,
With their faces against windows 'til their noses turned cold.
The air was filled with the smell of turkeys roasting,
And the sounds of merry singing,
People brave the cold walk to church,
Whilst the bells were a-ring-ringing.
On the broken steps of a tumbled-down house,
A small girl sits all alone,
She has no dreams of dollies in pink dresses,
Just a mother with a heart turned to stone.
In the park late at night,
There's an old man with nothing to do but roam,
Long before you break that brand new truck,
Its empty box will be his home.

God's Game

What do you see when you look at me?

I am just a person like you, and have the same thoughts and feelings that you do.

Do not judge me by what you see,

I was made by Creation's King, to show you the truth behind his meaning.

That the body may not be deemed whole, but there is still nothing greater than the soul.

We are all part of the same game, 

But the paths that we follow, are not the same.

Your obstacles will differ from mine,

But you will not see me just break down and whine.

I will continue to soldier on,

Even when it appears that all my hope is gone.

I will never regret this gift that I have been given,

For I know, that my falterings will always be forgiven.

I shall follow in the ways of His son,

And play this game until it is won.

Ode To A Pebble

I hold you in my hand,

Just a tiny one in several billion,

No more dull or shinier than the rest,

Just a simple little pebble.

As I turn you over in my fingers,

I wonder how old you must be,

The places to which you've been,

And the things you must have seen.

How many miles have you traveled?

On which shores have you laid to rest?

How many others have held you in their hands,

Then tossed you back into the brine from which you came?

Shall I leave you here hidden among the rest,

Or throw you out across the waves to begin your journey once again?

I look at you, the tiny pebble in my hand,

So smooth and unassuming,

I put you in my pocket and take you home.

Southwark Gone

The grey tunnel seems cold and empty,

Pictures of times gone by now dull and lifeless,

It's all quiet down in Southwark.

No gentle strum of the guitar,

No happy sounds of the accordion,

It's all quiet down in Southwark.

Gone is the gentle clanging of coins in an open case,

And the rumble of applause,

It's all quiet down in Southwark.

No ancient melodies from the east,

Or indie classics from the west,

It's all quiet down in Southwark.

The air is no longer filled with the sound of music,

Just a bold and sober sign; 'No Busking,'

It's all quiet down in Southwark.

The sounds of the City have passed on by,

Its characters are all gone,

Now it's far too quiet down in Southwark.

Weakness

I feel the coldness of the glass,

And my hands tremble as I bring it to my lips,

The pain will soon pass,

All it takes is but a few gentle sips.

Now there's no turning back,

As the light begins to fade,

I can feel my head under attack,

As I fall down onto the bed that I've made.

It doesn't matter how many times I've been here,

Or how many times I've struggled to break free,

Always I succumb to my greatest fear,

When will I realise, that my weakness is me?

Sulking

Maybe it is the grass beneath my feet,

Still wet in this early morn,

That keeps my heart at this low beat,

As it dampens my feet in these shoes that are long since worn.

A would be ride passes me by,

But I do not dwell on what might have been,

The hour of labour will soon be nigh,

Of which to go I am not keen.

Years of toiling  have passed me by,

And yet I am no further away,

From the worries that bring a tear to my eye,

As I struggle through day by day.

The morning air brings a melancholy mood,

As I continue towards the place I don't want to go,

Tired and alone I can do nothing but brood,

Thinking of you and how much I loved you so.

Is it fair that you are gone?

Gone on with your life as I struggle here alone,

Without you and your gentle soul to help me carry on,

I fear my heart may become hard as stone.

Waiting

Sitting,

Waiting,

But waiting for what I do not know.

Waiting for my head to clear,

And let me walk on through this fear.

Waiting for the rain,

So that it might drown out my pain.

Waiting for You to find me,

To break my chains and set me free.

Anxiety

I feel the familiar tingle in my hand,

And pray that the moment will pass.

But as I stand there thinking about it,

The feeling just becomes worse.

My mouth feels so try,

As I try to control my breathing.

It's not easy to do on this airless underground carriage,

And my mind wanders to the paper bag in my pocket.

I try to think of something else,

Anything but the numbness of my cold fingers.

The world around me is normal,

But I am not.

It strikes when you least expect it,

Sneaking up to ruin your day.

You must be strong,

Stay calm and in control.

Don't let yourself be dragged into that blackened hell,

What are you so afraid of?

This moment will pass,

Just keep holding on.

Beauty

Today I discovered the words of a wise man,

He did not write them, but he meant every one,

The truest spoken words ever uttered under the sun.

‘Tis true my form is rather odd,

But blaming me is blaming God.’

Do we really question the one who would mercilessly strike us down with the rod?

‘Could I create myself a new,

I would not fail in pleasing you.’

Whoever says that beauty is only skin deep does not speak true.

‘If I could reach from pole to pole, or grasp the ocean in a span,

I would be measured by the soul, the mind’s the standard of the man.’

It is the beauty of our soul within, that determines who we are in Gods’ great plan.

If you cannot see past the mistakes that creation has made,

Then I dare you to look into the mirror when your own beauty does fade.

Buy yourself a mask behind which to hide,

But you will never disguise the ugliness you keep inside.

Untitled

Why are the simple things in life so hard?

Who decides what is right or wrong?

Not everything is set in black and white,

So why do you turn your back on the grey inbetween?

If it is not wrong to love,

Then why do you judge it so?

The purest things are never simple,

How can you scorn what you don't understand?

Our hearts make decisions,

When our minds are closed to reason.

Must we freeze the fire kindling inside,

Just because others say it isn't right?

Spring

The sun is shining,

Daffodils are in bloom,

Shaking their golden heads in a warm, gentle breeze,

Spring is in the air.

There are baby geese by the lake,

Their fluffy little feathers glistening in the sun,

As the proud new dad warns off anyone who gets too near,

Spring is in the air.

Hidden in the hedgerow,

Two little ears come into view,

A tiny nose twitches, sniffing the air,

The easter bunny delivered after all,

As a pair of cotton tails nibble and hop through the undergrowth,

Spring is in the air.

The sun shines on fields of yellow,

As people bask in its long awaited warmth,

Children run and play over fields of green,

Sounds of joy and laughter everywhere,

Spring is in the air.

Remember Me?

Do you remember me?

The one you always left behind,

When you were laughing behind my back,

Did you know that the joke was on you?

Did you think you hurt me?

I was the one that left you behind,

I never let you hold me back,

I had much more fun without you.

You thought you were better than me,

But you were always trailing behind,

And I never once looked back,

You see, I was always a better person than you.

Maybe

I see him around now and then,

A smile can say so much,

And when I see him again,

I know what I must do.

Give him my number,

Find out his name,

Maybe one day I'll call him,

And finally win his heart.

But life is never that easy,

Anything could happen,

Perhaps he will turn from me,

And my dreams will turn to dust.

Jester

What's up Jester?

Why do you look so sad?

Spin your face around my harlequin friend,

It can't really be that bad.

I know you have a bright-eyed smile,

I painted it on myself,

That's the face I want to see,

When you're sitting on the shelf.

Cheer up Jester,

You're better than the rest,

It'll be our little secret,

That you're the one I love the best.

With your comical expressions,

You never fail to make me smile,

You're the one who always knows what's going on,

So sit down here and comfort me for a while.

T. Modern

I'll never understand modern art,

With its blank canvases and squares,

A piece of wood dangled from the ceiling,

Or just a row of metal chairs.

People pay millions of pounds,

For something that could be a childs drawing,

To them it must seem brilliant,

It can't just be me that thinks it's boring.

I saw a man spend five minutes looking at a shelf,

Probably figuring out for how much it would sell,

Was it even supposed to be a display?

Looking around the room, who could even tell?

When did art become so boring?

Where has the artistic imagination gone?

No real talent needed no more,

Just splash some paint on a door and call it 'Death of John.'

If this is what they mean by modern art,

Then I'm proud to be retro in every way,

No blocks of wood or half chairs for me,

I'd much rather fill my space with a Degas or Monet.

Saviour

When I nearly faltered You took my hand and led me away,

When temptations became strong and my will was weak,

You reminded me of how far I had come.

If it wasn't for You I would have slided back into the abyss,

It is nice to know that You are still there.

You didn't just help me up and then leave me to dangle there alone,

Yours are the hands that hold me up high.

I never have to worry about falling because Your grip on me is strong,

And I know that You will never let me fall.

When times get tough and old temptations rear their ugly heads,

You are always there to take me by the hand,

My guiding light to lead me through the darkness.

You gave Your life so that I never have to be alone,

Even in the blackest night the darkness never overwhelms me,

I am never afraid because I know that You are never far away.

My Saviour and my Friend.

Bird Lady

A figure in black,

Upon stony ground,

Sitting still and alone,

As the birds fly round.

Just a lonely figure,

On the middle of the beach,

With the birds all around her,

The food just out of reach.

She reaches for the sky,

The birds follow her lead,

As the food hits the ground,

They dive down and feed.

The Mighty Swan.

Quack, quack, quack,

Is the same in any language,

As the humble Duck,

Lives side by side with the mighty Swan.

The sun reflects off the lake,

But the waters ripple on,

With the graceful swim of a thousand feathered friends,

But none more so than the Swan.

As the crumbs fly from tiny hands,

The hungry masses come flying in,

In a scene that would make even Hitchcock proud,

There is none more mighty than the Swan.

In brown waters under a field of green,

Beautiful feathers never lose their shine,

Among the greens, the blues, yellows and the reds,

There is nothing so bright as the beautifully white Swan.

A thousand wings flap across the lake,

Stirring up the water as they go,

Even the tiniest of Ducks puts up a good show,

But nothing splashes quite like the mighty wings of the Swan.

The most graceful of birds,

Knows where they belong,

The Lion might be King of the Jungle,

But the Swan is Queen of the Lake.

Dun of the Staple

Thirty-three miles north of London,

There arose the market town of Dunstaple.

Where driving through on a horse and cart,

Could get you a dagger through the heart.

For destitute of every humane principle there was one,

Who went by the name of Thomas Dun.

For years along the great North Road,

He terrorised travellers as they rode.

Robbing and killing with his dagger by his side,

Until finally under the executioners axe he died.

So arose the town of Dunstable,

A name that is derived from a tale that is tall.

Rainy Day Blues

What is it about the rain that dampens my mood?

And makes me long for the things that I never had.

When I'm cold and wet,

And fighting back the tears of the memories I never had.

The water soaks me until I feel as though I'm drowning,

Reaching out in desperation for those times together that we never had.

Standing alone in the cold and damp,

I can't help but think of the things I would have said to you if that chance I'd had.

Is this Gods' way of telling me,

That I should never have wasted all of those opportunities I had.

And will it be raining when I meet you in heaven?

Rebel Without A Clue

I want to be James Dean,
And grab life by the balls,
To know just who I want to be,
And not let anything stand in my way.
I want to take everything I've ever seen,
And hide it all behind concrete walls,
Casting shadows that will hide me,
When night turns into day.

I want to be James Dean,
And live life to the full,
To try everything that I can,
Before my journey ends.
Forget the things I could have been,
Then won't matter when I fall,
Exhausted from the times I ran,
Trying to escape from those I used to call friends.

I want to be James Dean,
And tear up the town,
Wander the streets under the glare of the moon,
And brace myself as the cold wind blows.
I often wonder what my dreams may mean,
When I feel as though I'm falling down,
And the morning comes too soon,
Without the highs to balance out the lows.

I want to be James Dean,
And live life without a care,
Grab everything that comes my way,
And leave behind a soul they'll never forget.

Defeated.

What do you do when you know that something is wrong?

Do you run from it?

Or turn and face the demons inside.

Close your eyes and sing a happy song,

As you tumble down into that bottomless pit,

When they said it would all be ok, they lied.

Keep telling yourself that you were fine all along,

It won't matter one little bit,

When that last ounce of hope has finally died.

Freedom.

What is the price of freedom?

To live in a world,

Without anger and fear.

To have a life we can rely on,

Where our nations are not felled,

And death isn’t always near.

I don’t want to go to war,

I don’t want to be blasted off the earth,

Why can’t we all live in peace?

Why do we always have to fight?

Why can’t the world work together in peace?

And then we can all have eternal freedom.

The Things I'll Never Do.

If my time on Earth were through,

What about all the things I’ll never do?

I will never know,

How sweet my life could be.

I would never travel across the great sea,

To the exotic lands I would now never see,

Never set foot on foreign soil,

And think of the things I’ll never do.

What if I died before this dawn?

And my children are never born,

I will never hold them in my arms,

And tell them of the things I’ll never do.

O Lord please don’t take my life away,

At least not today,

Give me a chance to live life,

And the things I’ll never do.