Mango Walk

but yet is ample once you choose your way

all you must do is set apart your pride

not just in honour but in the best allied

arts you have studied since your first calm day

your choices narrow since the gate’s not wide

enough for coaches in which large folk ride

but humbler folk might still that path essay

all you must do is set apart your pride

from hope and anguish both yet never hide

your expectation of what we might say

your choices narrow since the gate’s not wide

yet little matters since we will not collide

with foolish beings who will not obey

all you must do is set apart your pride

and just be ready to confront the tide

that still treats us as objects of its play

your choices narrow since the gate’s not wide

all you must do is set apart your pride

we do not reach the edge and simply wait

for others to catch up and find us there

but plough on further deep in the affair

where there's a margin between will and fate

nothing's disclosed nor open to debate

since we are subject to recoil from care

or be abused and chided anywhere

we utter speech all choices have to grate

there is no reason that we must return

like beaten dogs in summer to this place

yet still you find us trying not to run

from any anger facing the harsh burn

of baying voices shouting out disgrace

at all of those who brave the brassy sun

leaves start to fall they're mango-red and dry

but seem like scattered tears in the grey dawn

when i have got the paper from the lawn

and sought the new day's fortune in the sky

with hope the auguries will not now lie

while those who sleep behind curtains still drawn

miss happy sight of trotting deer and fawn

for all the world like neighbours passing by

now this is change and magic in its way

which multiplied becomes the world's own form

and contains us such moments we retain

in deepest memory against the day

of dearth and sorrow in the heart of storm

when we are lashed by coldest wind and rain

our duty is to rectify the names

and ranks of those who serve and guide the state

take out the waste and cast in in the flames

the one who praises is the one who blames

so both should suffer an immediate fate

our duty is to rectify the names

remove the wrong assess all proper claims

while honouring those who patiently wait

take out the waste and cast it in the flames

not for us gaudy masks of knights and dames

we learnt our service how to clean each plate

our duty is to rectify the names

to take account of glories and of shames

of who was early and who coming late

take out the waste and cast it in the flames

we have no time for silly childish games

nor patience for discussion and debate

our duty is to rectify the names

take out the waste and cast it in the flames

dry grass thin stubble in late summer's heat

reflaring here and there to darker green

in mottled shade there's no one to be seen

a heavy silence rules upon the street

we crave completion seek the upward beat

of ravens' wings demand the vision keen

of tropic vultures we release our spleen

on hapless ears but then we must retreat

in each cool cave the music cannot fail

to guard against the horror of bright day

while keeping hearts in balance from the strain

of sensing that there's more to the true tale

as yet unheralded in what you say

but for the moment we must count the gain

so now all clocks are showing the time's passed

for wearing chains and keeping dark heads bowed

since august morning has come round at last

although the sons of hate may stand aghast

we know our parents wept but were not cowed

so now all clocks are showing the time's passed

and we will leave till now we had held fast

but we can show the world that we are proud

since august morning has come round at last

so long a silence then the thunderblast

of our rejoicing we were good and loud

so now the clocks are showing the time's passed

for humble patient service we will cast

away all bondage tear apart the shroud

since august morning has come round at last

with our free hands we sanctify the past

as for the future we face it unbowed

so now all clocks are showing the time's passed

since august morning has come round at last

the music moves across the cold grey sea

through empty space and then the warm applause

erupts into my heart the proper cause

is truth and order in all that we see

set out before us the true honest plea

of decent life that grows without a  pause

through urgent summer with its verdant laws

written in thunder music sets us free

now let our eyes not focus on the cloud

but seek the sunlight and the surging tide

never complain that enemies are proud

nor that there are key matters to decide

for now's the moment to use your own voice

unleash your proper laughter and rejoice

we watch the summer swallows swoop and soar

beneath the heavy  clouds while  children sleep

oblivious to the way  the long hours creep

like mice through the long grass so we abhor

the many pressures that have made us weep

we watch the summer swallows swoop and soar

so near our heads it must affect the score

and strike our hearts  the fountain's source is deep

in native rock meanwhile like passive sheep

we watch the summer swallows swoop and soar

there is no wonder where there is no hope

we learn this truth before we learn to speak

defining magic as just one more trope

among the ones with which we have to cope

tools of the just and weapons of the meek

there is no wonder where there is no hope

so we declare but yet the merest dope

believes his circumstances are unique

defining magic as just one more trope

that must be learnt before he climbs the slope

towards the greatest highest noble peak

there is no wonder where there is no hope

those are the words and they are no soft soap

serving to guide us unto what we seek

defining magic as just one more trope

of our old language so that gives us scope

for honest understanding and critique

there is no wonder where there is no hope

defining magic as just one more trope

we looked on open water for a week

a warm green sea true eater of the sun

great arm of ocean not river or creek

this was our respite from a world made bleak

by constant duty service on the run

we looked on open water for a week

in hope of healing certain the unique

sense of the name would give us what we'd won

great arm of ocean not river or creek

immensity of peace that we could seek

as fullest respite when each day was done

we looked on open water for a week

with smiling faces that forbade critique

of any statement that would overrun

great arm of ocean not river or creek

where we end moving easily and sleek

towards the sunset knowing it was fun

we looked on open water for a week

great arm of ocean not river or creek