Crying tears is not a crime
I’ve cried with you, time after time
But always know you’re in my mind
You said don’t grieve for me.
The Angler's Song
By banks we roam, ‘cross burns we leap
When hearts were young and thrills were cheap
By lonely stream, canal or brook
We'd cast a line with baited hook.
Like a hobo she wanders, helpless and lost
Taunted by children and hated by most
I'm not a lover of vermin that fly
But I felt myself pity this bird straggling by.
A Fortunate Meeting.
It was as though a fresh wind had come
To me and awakened within my inner self
All that I thought dead.
No confusion, no remorse, no guilt
We see this coarse or vile and give it other names
But when it gets right down to it, it’s all the bloody same
Did you blow off, or trump, the smell will let you know
Did you let one off or let one rip or did you let one go
Love In Darkest Hours.
For love was a wonderful sight
And love was the hour of darkness
That came along in morning’s depths
And shared some spurious thoughts.