With our conditional sunshine, and smoke-filtered rain, we alter nature's colours and flush our future down the drain. See our choking oceans and there's no expanding ice we harvest shrinking forests beneath El Nino skies. Cars, cars and still more cars designed to feed our yearning no problems to the planet as they are catalytically burning. The fish are going, tigers too let's make haste to the moon for it will be our only refuge if we don't do something soon.
Tag: moon
Safe Passage to Tollesbury
I had to move her now Because the winter was here Sailing her was usually fun When the sun was there to cheer. Blowing wind and heavy rain The boat is severely tossed around Hold on, grit my teeth, look out! We must not go aground. There are no lighted buoys No shapes upon the shore No moon or stars to help us and daylight is no more. I've been so foolish, will we make it? I feel that I have sinned Then a calmness overtakes me as I smell wood smoke on the wind. Can you smell it? I asked my friend Just a trace on the air Someone is burning wood on the shoreline over there. I know where to head if the shore is on the right Keep straight ahead and find the flashing beacon light. There it is! Just a little more Then hang a left into the creek Shine the torch - look there's the quay - And the wind has ceased to shriek. The bonfire burner on the shore Will never ever know The comfort he rendered two frightened men Who were lost in a winter blow.
Black Salt Sea
Near eleven on a still summer night I gazed at the ink black tide. A large bright moon, quite low in the sky Found Ghosts that were trying to hide. The water moved like pitch, just warm Going fastest at the core The Ghosts were running hard Toward my home on the distant shore. For this was the night the spirits came Rising up from the black, black sea To strike terror in the heart of one man And tonight that man was me.
Tight Valve
I see much beauty in a sunset
And enjoy laughing in the rain
I am moved by a babies chuckle
Or the hiss from an old steam train.
Or a sunrise in the morning
And a high tide at noon
Curlews plaintive crying on marshes
Before the rising moon.
I am a sucker for nostalgia
True pathos brings a tear
I like to be alone but
I need somebody near.
I have deep hidden feelings
Which yearn to be set free
But I can't tell those looking in
About the softer side of me.
As I See Things 