This is what it says to me.
This is what it says to me.
I’d heard of a lady called Treena
and why nobody had ever seen her,
at night she was frightened of midges
but in the day it was the low spans of bridges
so she spent all her time in the marina.
Last night I had a waking dream,
Though not asleep but in my bed
A figure with a halo red
A crimson ring, a monstrous scene
Her body veiled, her face unseen
Though I knew tears were in her eyes
Above her, letters in the sky
A message etched in words of fire
Warning of man’s greed and desire
A path to sure destruction lies.
Keep an open hand
with the cards close to your chest.
Life is a gamble.
Far above the concreted scene
stands a stone tower in the sky
a man there stands, with single eye
the other absent, never seen
ever watchful, his sight still keen
vigilant, as alone he stands
telescope clasped in single hand
his message clear for all to see,
they did their duty under me.
True patriots all, to a man.
A cloak of mistrust
falls upon the human race
death hides in the crowd
There was a young lady called Barbara,
went for a trip to Scarborough,
alone on the Helter-skelter
she was sad that no-one had felt her
behind or offered to carry her camera
Dancing flies rise on the warm air,
one bite enough to make you itch.
So listen for their telltale pitch,
a siren warning they are there.
Attacking those who don’t take care,
even when dressed in fabric thin
may find red lumps upon their skin.
Spots that can be soothed by tinctures
thinking that God made such creatures
perhaps as punishment for sin.
Young Fergus was a bullock
A highland bull was he,
Like any other fine bullock
as proud as punch to be
out in the field, tossing
his head, so all the girls could see
while looking for a lover,
think, he’s the one for me
But they were all in for a shock
as he would soon be dinner or tea.
Poetry from my pen
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