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The Telegram

SOS

HEAVEN ON FIRE

DEW DROPS

FIND ATHENA

SEND HELP

STOP

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The Dragon

Fully mature she stood before me,

terrifying in her magnificence.

Struggling and straining, getting nowhere;

her desire to be free nearly extinguished.

Little puffs of smoke billowed from her,

reminding me of the glory she once held.

Scarlet and black, a warning to the faint of heart.

Her monstrous girth, petrifying yet tantalising,

inviting me to look deeper, to search for something.

It was then I noticed the shackles.

She was chained, how was it possible?

Tethered to the ground, no longer able to fly,

it was in that moment I looked into her eyes.

I searched beyond the fire and rage,

into the beasts very soul.

There staring back at me

stood my own reflection

cultivated throughout the years.

Inside were all my anxieties,

wrapped up amongst my fears.

The hurt and pain laid bare

glistening like unshed tears.

I reached over to her carefully,

a gentle hand was needed here.

“Oh my darling dragon, don’t fret,

I am here.  I am here.  I am here.”

I stroked that beautiful dragon

and with tenderness I spoke

“You will fly again my darling,

I will liberate you once more.”

Her pleading eyes beseeched me

as she looked towards the door.

It was like I heard her whimper

but I don’t want to fight any more.

“Don’t you worry dragon,

I’ve healed your broken heart

once again, it’s full of love

so when the storm clouds gather

You can soar above.

May’s Way

And now, the end is near
and my demise is surely certain 
My friend, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain
I’ve lied, so many times
as I ran through, fields of barley
And more, much more than this, I did it May’s way

Regrets, I’ve had a few
but then again, I’d have to care first.
I did what I had to do, robbed the poor without exemption
With cuts I fecked you all, the disabled I hit worst
And more, much more than this, I did it May’s way

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
And through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall and did it May’s way

I’ve smirked, and laughed and cried
You had your fill, of my abusing
And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in a shy way,
“Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it May’s way”

For what is a Tory, what have I got?
With no party, will I be caught? 
Forgetting those who feel, for those who kneel
The record shows I took the blows and did it May’s way!

https://ponderingsfrompaisley.wordpress.com/2017/05/31/3178/

As the Piper Played

As the piper played,

the blood dripped from wounded men

staining more than the land they fell on.

Tears of the living and the dead;

etched on the heart of the future,

grief a century would not erase.

The tears still fall,

as the piper plays.

 

As the piper played,

the strength ripped from broken hearts

straining more than the chests they came from

screams from the living and the dead

carved on the body of life

a warning to never forget.

The tears still fall,

as the piper plays.

 

As the piper played,

the breath slipped from shattered lives

chaining more than the band they fell from,

to remember the living and the dead

and carry them with them

in their hearts and minds forever.

The tears still fall,

as the piper plays.

 

As the piper played,

the life slipped from tortured souls;

chaining more than the sand they fell upon;

bound to the living and the dead

imprisoned by their sorrow

never forgetting the fallen.

The tears still fall,

as the piper plays.

Let me take you down

Let me take you down

‘cause I’m going too

a land where strawberries

are sometimes blue.

Bare-foot, right hand

no backward glance

Scuttling the surface

on pillars of sand

Marching to the beat

providing sustenance

the people eat and bow

to kiss their feet

Signposts to deception,

revolution and reflection

Banded together

in an art collection

Buried truth

or a shroud of lies?

The dreamer awake

and the singer who died.

Looks like some wishes really do come true.

I wrote this poem on Burns Day 2015 so it was a real delight for me to see that a concert was planned for Gleniffer Braes tomorrow afternoon as part of this years Doors Open Day. I found it amusing that the PDE also used one of my favourite films as inspiration for their title.  Hope the sun shines down on the wild mountain thyme and everyone has a bloomin’ sweet time.

PDE The Hills are Alive

We’ve had orchards for public consumption and people singing in the streets. the snail case, saints, socialist’s and some really horrendous history. We’ve had patterns, poets, philanthropists and our fair share of mystery. We’ve had tragedy and triumphs and starting again, we’ve had dark days that feel, like they’ll never end. We lift up our heads and we keep stumbling on, no longer are Gleniffer Braes filled with our songs. Our voices are muffled and the tune’s hard to hear, maybe that’s why we’re not filled with more cheer. The resonance changes as we come together in song, so let’s do it again before very long. A summer festival, just like the old days, a chorus of voices from Glennifer Braes. Songs of freedom and tales never told, a coming together of the young and the old. Our hearts lifted as our voice joins in unity, we go back into town as a community.

Original post – https://ponderingsfrompaisley.wordpress.com/2015/01/26/the-hills-were-alive-with-the-sound-of-music-part-2/

Inspired by – https://ponderingsfrompaisley.wordpress.com/2015/01/25/the-hills-were-alive-with-the-sound-of-music/

Forever Yew

 

Forever Yew

The Craigends Yew by Rashelle Reid

Yew

tree, layering,

enticing; the curious,

the seeker to contemplate,

signs, rebirth is always occurring

and that even decay can herald

the birth of new life.

As the cycle continues

and the circle

remains unbroken

forever.

 

Forever Yew

The Craigends Yew by Rashelle Reid


 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Craigends_Yew

 

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