Rudolph and the refugee child

A refugee child wondered weary and tired

looking for some food, shelter and warmth from a fire

but the snow fluttered from the sky

was Christmas a lie?

Rudolph flew down from on high

he would take the the child to the land of elves and presents

Father Christmas would feed the orphan child a roast pleasant

and show him the love the best present of all

in our hearts we must all break the wall.

Ghost stories

Rain falling on the decomposing leaves
cold autumn air breathed in warm lungs
the wind blows muttering ghost stories
into our ears.

Pumpkins carved into wickedly twisted smiles
we dress up for Halloween discos and parties with style
gathering sweets as we go
while the full moon glows

Bonfires built as we wait for the 5th of November 
when fireworks will explode and sparkle in the night sky
we remember the gun powder plot 
as we toast marshmallows on the bonfire.

You are darkness

You are darkness

but there are stars shining in that darkness

the night gives the stars room to shine

and heaven is a heart that mines

all the diamonds in the sky

for us when we die

you cannot have the light without the dark

you cannot have light without a spark

which illuminates the dense darkness of night

we gravitate towards the light

we need it’s warmth like a beacon

otherwise we weaken

but the dark is place of growth also

and we grow in the dark towards the light.

A man filled to the brim

A man filled to the brim

with importance like a full pint

waiting to have his glass smashed

and the contents on the bar room floor

in a bar room brawl

or drunk or consumed

by time

I unlike have had my confidence dashed

my pint glass gone it’s contents drunk

I skulk in the background

I was only ever a lemonade man

in the shade never seen or scanned

by eyes

my life never pretty lies.

Don’t you remember when we were kids

Don’t you remember when we were kids

when you proposed to your childhood crush with a hula hoop ring

sung nursery rhymes and pretended to be king

of a castle and that your friend was a dirty rascal

played hop scotch in the playground
and run across and TIG your it
and you ran across the school yard with glee
just because you could with me
we though it was great to grow up
but we sometimes miss those days
finger painting and art
now all we dream of is shopping carts
and money ain’t it funny
how growing up was a trap
and how we used play was so inventive
creating pretend treasure maps.