Jul. 17th, 2007

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

a hint of thunder in the heavy air
clouds in a steady magisterial pace
move into what seems a natural place
down the steep hill workers do not stare
the sun itself would not seem to dare
illuminate our still-dry montane space
with beams of mighty heat and grace
for other matters still i have to care
tasks not yet done i now must confront
thoughts to be written words to be unsaid
this is for such things the proper hour
others i hope will have to bear the brunt
so much to read so little i have read
the wordy magic cannot lose its power

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

again the echo of a distant wail
no memory to help us at this hour
we hit the centre of the poking nail
again the echo of a distant wail

we do not choose to fall and fail
what's sought is a reviving power
again the echo of a distant wail
no memory to help us at this hour

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

a shadow moves with little speed
no wind can alter its slow rate
the sun has passed above the gate

we have the things that most we need
there's plenty sitting on the plate
a shadow moves with little speed

there's never any room for greed
you have to pardon any hate
for we are overpowered by fate
a shadow moves with little speed

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
the skies when full of joy will weep
deception does not always hide
the truths that we may want to keep
the skies when full of joy will weep

against the reigns of peace and sleep
we always take the losing side
the skies when full of joy will weep
deception does not always hide

we aren't along for just the ride
a journey means more than a trip
we can't afford to let things slide
we aren't along for just the ride

the power of light keeps us inside
beyond the gate we'll likely slip
we aren't along for just the ride
a journey means more than a trip

from the large mug i take a sip
i've let the leaves now fully steep
the sun from its zenith must dip
from the large mug i take a sip

only the dumb shoot from the hip
the wise will stand and never creep
from the large mug i take a sip
i've let the leaves now fully steep

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

We've come under swift attack
there is no safety in the bay,
we can observe, both night and day,
these moping dolphins dressed in black.
We've taken quite a lot of flack
for saying what we had to say
but these are not of common clay
we've nothing here to hold them back.
A lot of us would use a bomb
to drive these creatures from the sea,
still we have got to recognise
they wear their garb with true aplomb,
their sadness comes from being free
and they view us with weary eyes.

no shade

Jul. 17th, 2007 04:03 pm
fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

a shape of light upon the walk
the branches hardly seem to move
marked it is with lines of chalk
a shape of light upon the walk

we want the silence not the talk
there's nothing that we have to prove
a shape of light upon the walk
the branches hardly seem to move

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

a message comes to those who wait
but not to those who cannot choose
to sit in patience by the gate
a message comes to those who wait

we've left the answer far too late
it's not a case of win or lose
a message comes to those who wait
but not to those who cannot choose

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
a sudden movement in the air
a spider thread across the sight
that gentlest movement in the light

the day has turned most sweetly fair
the evening will be clear and bright
a sudden movement in the air

we do not find this strange or rare
the chorus will start with the night
and sound will overwhelm the sight
a sudden movement in the air

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)

we mark the disappearing sun
its colours fill the western sky
the earth back into night has spun
we mark the disappearing sun

the world seems rather badly run
the rulers all will cheat and lie
we mark the disappearing sun
its colours fill the western sky

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