Creation 2.

So, what happened next ?,
Let me see,
Shell I address this metaphorically,
I think I will use a bit of both,
It is nice to have a different stroke.

So, I suppose you would like to know,
How the devil did come and go,
From the paradise ride.

Adam did sneeze,
That's' the first thing he did do,
Before the Angels', he went, went over to,
They told him to say,
All Praise Be To God,
So, that was the first words',
He did phrase,
In paradise way.

God ordered the Angels' to bow down to his feet,
So the Angels' did do, what they was ordered to.
The devil refused,
Because he was not true,
Of the creation of light that the Angels',
Came from,
So that made him very wrong.

God declared him faulty,
Because he had an arrogance naughty,
" What caused you to disobey me ?,
God questioned his invalid display,
The devil's unhealthy ways'.
The devil replied,
" I am better then he, I am made from black smokeless fire ".
So there you have it,
the devil walked his wire.

One thing more, I would like to add,
You question me on my phrase,
Trying to change the wording, to please who ?,
A people,
No I will not rewrite the wording,
I would be wrong, fire and flame, for eternity
I will not, enter into that game.
But to reassure you,
If you think the undertones' belittle your race,
What colour was Adams', potters' clay.
Be at ease now, and don't feel,
That God would belittle any one of you, God is always' true.

Creation 1.

Death will come to you,
You say, as you see the forbidden way,
This is not the almighty day.

One judge, One day,
Then it will be the almighty day.
No running will you do,
When your one book,
Is given to you.

Then what ?.

Fire and flames',
No skirt and frock,
No lad on lad,
No frill will you seek.

Do you wish for your above future,
To be so bleak,
Your decision.
Your own crime,
I will not pay that ransom,
I say, on this day.

In this life, I would rather, death,
Then follow a way that will lead to the almighty judgment of the day.
The judgement being,
You ask, will there be forgiving.

If you turn from your wrong ways',
Upon a path that will forsake your past.
God will take your heart,
To the heaven above,
Into the sky,
Away from the earth,
Into the land of the forgotten,
Where Adam and Eve,
Once stood.

Innocent from the sin,
Of the one abandoned jinn.
You ask me, what is jinn please ?,
I do not know.

You may think that he was once called an Angel,
Angels' never committed a crime,
Made from light, they never did fight,
The might of God's command,
They stood firm to his almighty hand,
Unlike the jinn.
Who was created before you,
In heaven above,
Abandoned, an orphan created from smoke unseen,
Unseen.
Also known to man as the ghost, the ghost, the ghost, unseen.
He is him.
The jinn.

He told our one father Adam, who was created by God's hand,
He told our one mother Eve, who was created by God's hand,
To fall into a forbidden sin,
Jealousy betook him.

He was the closet jinn to God,
An orphan, from the Shepard's' flock, from the creation of the jinn,
Then he did see,
After two thousand years' of freedom in paradise,
The creation of the earth and life,
Adam stood still before him,
Made from clay,
That day.

What clay ?, you do ask,
The best clay,
A brown potters' clay,
Standing there for forty years'.
The jinn, did watch from afar,
Passing by Adam's shell,
Before the jinn decided to choose hell.

He tapped him on the head,
Day after day,
Trying to look the other way,
Before God came,
And took his air,
Breathing it into Adam.
All the time, the jinn,
The jinn,
Watching.

God's air, reaching the upper part of Adam's heart,
Before it had time to reach his legs'
Adam fled.
Fled to what?, You do say,
What ?, have you forgot,
The beauty of paradise display,
The trees' that resided in the grace of God's beautiful creation,
Paradise display,
More beautiful then the clearest ocean,
Adam ran, to the sweet fruit,
Unlike the taste we eat today,
For this is not paradise way.

The fruit in paradise is what,
The best of the best,
Unlike the devil's delight,
Chocolate cake, we love, hate.

Anyway, getting back to the main thing,
Adam's vision restricted him,
Before the blessed air of God,
Reached his leg's he did flee,
Making him a very fast bumble bee.
Metaphorically.

That's why God did say,
Adam has been made with haste,
Impatience overtook that day.

More will come,
But you will have to wait,
Patience is what ?,
Is very hard to do,
So, do you now see ?,
The verse,
Of God's hand,
Do you now, understand ?.

Birth

Where was I raised, you say,
Than you have the cheek to make me answer for my sin,
Was I raised amongst a people with religion,
I think not,
So, then you must have forgot.

That you yourself did not pass,
The forbidden mark,
Or reside in a land,
That you yourself, did ban.

Food

Oh, look who is fat,
You say, as you eat,
Throughout the day.

Who is pointing the finger,
Did you reside in the town of the desert people,
Eating their food,
And becoming thin,
Answer me, if you do not sin.

Apple

What is this I hear,
That you say,
A smell is being displayed,
Well I have one thing to say.

Experience is the key to sort out the trouble,
Without it, we would be lost in double.

With knowledge, comes' the strife,
Of a well balanced life .

Look at the stories' gone past before,
There was trouble and strife,
Battering wife,
Incest in the Arabian homes',
Not one nation was a perfect race,
From the day that Adam was raised.

We faced the incitement of the devil,
Accursed from the very start,
From the first sin.

The first sin,
Look at it,
Was it not a small sin,
Not like that, that we now find ourselves' in.

If the eating of the apple,
Caused the first man and wife,
To fall,
Then imagine the rest of the doom that,
Could face us all.

The home

What on earth is going on in the world,
All of this is wrong.

Before I was eleven,
looking after a little child from heaven,
In a home with a mum who was drunk,
Letting strange men in,
Thumping around.

Cold and unwarming,
Chilling to the bone,
No food in the dish,
No bread on the table.

Vodka was for breakfast time,
This was indeed, the crime ?.

Sickness did reside in the home,
Too small to use the phone.
Attack for a big mouth,
A knife in my back.

Oh dear drunk mum,
Go to the doctors' your son,
Is not well,
Then you felt hell.

Took

I let my child out to play,
Thinking I was doing my parents' ways'.

Then one day, before I did look,
You came by and took.

My child from my home,
Where I had made a comfortable zone.

The years' I invested, the pain I did feel,
When it was me who did get up in the night,
To see if my sweet child was alright.

Then you came and took,
The only thing I had left of the sweet book,
You snatched it away,
Leaving me dead that day.

Since that day, I have searched,
Looking for my sweet child, from the book,
The one you took.

I searched high and low,
Thinking one day you would show me where to look,
My beautiful baby,
You left me crazy.

Then one day, when I least expected it,
A knock on the door, came my way,
You came back to give me my prize,
Leaving me feeling surprised.

So, even though you took my sweet baby,
The fact that you came back,
To bring what you took,
I will never forget,
That you lived with the guilt and then decided that you would return,
The life you couldn't yourself have,
I will be happy to share in the delight,
That you came back to the light.

My kids'

Where is my child,
My sweet love of my life,
Disappeared into a life full of strife.

As a mother I tried my best,
Looking for ways',
To make you one of the rest,
Sorry my children if I did fail,
I could only hope you wouldn't turn pale.

Then when the time came,
Your friends' showed you the way,
From this life, where you was just fine,
They brought you into a world of bad trouble and crime.

I am sorry my children if I did fail,
To bring you into a life that could help bring you back,
To your dear old mum and dad,
Who tried to get you up for school,
But instead you chose to rule.

I am sorry my son if I failed, I tried my best to keep you away from jail.
But you choose to turn pale,
For that life, the life of jail.

My daughter you came to worship with me,
In the night we stayed up by your bed,
Looking towards' God's sweet rest.

Then one day a young boy did come,
Not looking for you to be a mum,
Rather to share his bed,
Leaving in the morning,
To see all the Young ladies',
Leaving you,
Alone my sweet baby.

It's not to late to come back to your mother,
Looking for a renewable guidance,
I will be there to share your trouble,
I am so sorry my dear,
If you felt pain and trouble,
I will try my best to put your troubles' behind,
Away from a dirty life of crime.

France

France, what is there to say about you,
The home of Notre Dame,
Where the people gathered at the cathedrals',
In drones', to hear the bells' of what they called God's Throne.

Lining the street,
They listened well,
Gathering the word's of what they loved most,
It wasn't women or gold,
Cars' or the roads',
More it was the bell of the old stories' told.

Celebrating the breaking of the bread,
The red wine,
They did shed.
In the streets', before they fled.
Did they put their religion to bed ?.
I don't know, I am asking please,
Can you tell me ?.
Where did your praise go ?,
When did the call stop?,
Did you forget your own bell and clock?.

Now do you see, why did the people flee,
From the flock,
What was it ?,
That gave them no shock ?.

The stories',
Were told,
Of a poor mum,
Left out in the cold,
The traveller and wayfarers',
In different lands',
Then you say you do stand firm,
Against other people travelling afar,
What is this ?,
Oh dear, how far have you travelled into the world,
Of life and love, material wealth,
Is it really a very powerful spell ?,
That has bewitched you,
Through and through,
Not leaving and coming over to what is true ?.

What is true ?, you do ask,
Is humbleness not a start ?.

Colour

Oh no, I just realised that it is not just the school,
And The little helper's club.

It is the dentist, the library,
The coffee shop,
The doctors',
My neighbours,
And the Gaza Strip too.

Oh no, my paintings' are in terrible trouble,
Oh my gosh,
You should have just asked,
I would have been more then willing to part with them.

But instead you done this and that,
Well I will not go into that.

Well done..)

Waiting to hear

I would leave everything to be with just you,
Would you do the same for me ?,
You would if you was true.

So, now do you see,
You was trained in deception, acting and lying too,
Was that ever me ?, I do ask you,
Did I ever do that, too ?,
So, what does that make you ?.

Now you are looking this way and that,
To turn this around,
Is that the fact,
But whatever way you turn,
You hear this sound,
A truth,
That could bring you down,
But you don't like to hear this do you ?
Because why,
Are you really true ?.

Did you ever ask me my voice,
No, but instead,
You lied.
So now, what is there for you to do?.

Ask yourself if you are true,

Who was the one to carry first after Ibrahim's disperse,
Maryam, the mum.
Then you think you can be the number one,
Let me see,
If you can relate the full story,
To me,
I am awaiting to hear please,
My ears' are open to your sound,
Let you spread this around.

The club too

The little helpers' club, will get one too,
Now I hope you are happy with that,
You really, nearly blinded me,
Like a crazy bat.

The gift is coming your way,
Sorry, for that terrible delay.

Local School

Now, I know you are awaiting my gift,
Don't worry,
I know what you wish.

Yellow peace, will be on your ground,
I am happy it will hang on your wall,
For the beautiful children to see,
To inspire, creativity.

I know you are panic stricken thinking I would forget,
Don't worry,
My hand will withhold,
That painting for you,
I do love you all, too.

Rather

Reading the book,
Two little lights' did I see,
Please can you specify what they were, what I did see.

Beautiful shinning,
Brightness adorned,
The light being more pure than the star's in the night,
Though I haven't a clue,
What they were,
Do you?

The first time I took a book,
That passed words' that are pure,
Two of them came,
Like a flash,
I thought I was dreaming,
But when it happened again,
I knew it wasn't my imagination,
Rather, there is only one explanation.

Though I do not claim I have vision,
Rather, I will leave it to your decision.

Same thing

Now that you have seen the heart,
You wish you could have,
Not left a bad mark.

You thought I was crazy, as mad as a bat,
I bet you never thought for one minute,
I would be back.

What I said I saw,
I really did see,
What I said I dreamt,
I really did dream,
Not that it matters' if you believe me or not,
I am not crazy,
But I could claim to have forgot.

Then that would have pleased the unhealthy pot.
Then what?.

You watched me through,
Listened in,
Pulling me on every little sin that you yourself,
Did encourage,
I am clean.

Now do you claim the same thing.

Twist

And now you gave me this,
The only thing that I can do,
To please all of you,
And take you back to a place that is safe,
Yet you yourself did play a nasty way,
You wish you could take it back,
And leave me with nothing,
The only thing that is my link,
You do not think.

Bent nose,
Bad back,
Pain in my teeth,
And fat.

I did work my way through,
Good and true,
But you kept me behind,
Now that is your crime.

I will not be sorry,
Nor will I cry,
I would rather die,
Then be apart of the mix,
That you yourself,
Did twist.

To Sway

I do not know what this is,
But I will say one thing,
You don't wish,
All that you done and all that you did,
That was a bad wish,
Is surly your own dish.

For the innocent ride, I did stay,
Along the right way,
However, the choices' I did sway, lay along your own median way.

It is your mark,
I declare,
And God knows what you did dare,
To do.

Now the black mark, lay upon you.
You dare to put me through, what you yourself,
Couldn't do.

All I have to say is,
Well,
Thank you.

For now I know my heart is pure, without that stain,
That you yourself, didn't refrain, when you tried to move my train.
All praise be to God,
For the choices' I made,
Or your soul would have surly paid.

Lucky I stayed in tune,
But you will feel,
An unhealthy doom.
Not a good code of conduct did you follow,
Thank you for the mercy you did declare to borrow,
On my name,
An innocent child,
What right did you have,
To pass a future,
By, Your own wish.

I have one thing to say,
I think for myself,
My own way.

And no matter if I accept it,
Or declare to miss,
I know I am pure,
From your unhealthy mark,
Good luck, in what you did start.

Hilltop

To recite a holy verse,
From the heart.

To feel the passion run through,
To see what is true.

To love the beauty,
Of past stories', shared.

To feel the burden of life,
When life wasn't compared.

To feel the wind, when it blows',
Knowing it used to touch our parents' toes',
Nonrenewable from; from recycled code.

Do we leave the world,
So rode, from our unhealthy code.

Not looking after our forefathers' wish,
Of green pastures',
What a beautiful dish,
Of flowers'.

Red blooming,
Petals' looming, through tall grass,
Over hillside tops, from the past.

We see healthy ways', ahead,
Lets' begin to tread a new path,
Not the way of so called red.

But many flowers' lay, in the hilltop glaze,
Awaiting, a beautiful, new day.

Tackle Issues'

Small children fighting,
In the play ground,
How to tackle it down.

Place the children involved, in a sports' hall,
And sit them down,
Make them pass the ball around,
No talking or sound.

The ball is the tool,
The key to success,
To release the stress,
Of parents' that are cruel,
Who don't know the rules'.

Supervision is required,
Until the children are laughing,
Togetherness will be found.

Dry

You can stop the dry land,
though not an easy stand.

You have to build a huge wall along the main rivers',
either side of the dry bank,
to separate the spread of human waste into the dry streams'.

Cultivate groves' along the walls' of the dry streams,
running through into a huge, man made dam.

From the dam, run a filter through, cleaning the water,
pure and true.

When the water is clean and healthy to drink,
cultivating crop's will bring a beautiful dream.

Of a good people that have been malnourished,
giving the food they have been missing,
no more hunger will be giving.

Problem.

To begin a new programme,
For youth that is classed as the yob,
When they are causing trouble,
Give them the service,' in an area where there is double,
With the man that they hate.

Community rounds', a house that is bound.
They will soon learn not to mess around.

Build three shops',
Of three different breeds',
All relaying the same creed.

House them together,
For protection will come,
The leader being the white one.

Place them in the middle,
The slander will come,
Then place the yobs' in an area of double,
And see if they will have dare to make trouble.

Make them sweep the roads' of not their kind,
And see if you will find,
Their wasteful remarks',
They will not dare to start.
Not even a single remark.

Cat

The cat is the queen,
The queen does serve,
Her peoples' hand.

You make a stand under,
The hand that serves' God's land,
Under the title of her name,
You should learn how to heel,
So you too, do the same.

It is a sure blasphemy against the very core,
Of what the mail stands' for.

To Reject

Why is it that you say we need to except,
When it's you who does reject,
We told you before,
About the God given law,
To all the good man,
Who resided in one of the most beautiful pens'.

Now you see,
The truth,
You wish to move,
Causing more problems' along the way,
Moving away from a God given day.

You say we are the Aggressive,
We call for the passive,
Who is the one,
Who refuses',
A peaceful outcome.

Ya, Peace.

How is it,
That when, the crime of red is split,
Across the floor, of a floating milk,
It gets' called, a high mistake.

When our crime of red is split, either from now or before,
It's classed as a crime for eternity,
Where is the logic,
In justice please,
We do need, universal peace.

The Man

If I am to understand the law,
Of our British land,
Photographs' of individuals', have to pass,
A permission from the so called man.
If the permission is not given,
Than no copyrighted material, belong's, to the one who is wrong, along the crime of invasion.

A British individual, belong's to British land,
The documentation's of an invasion, belongs' in the wrong hands'.

So, no right is it, of an invasion,
That they may withhold,
The story told, of a person that belong's to a different land.

Bring back the man, and his story told,
No right does it belong,
In the land that holds'
Not the right of,
The individual man.

Comic Rights'

The comic rights of the British people,
Are always' best at play.

The words' that offend,
Well; most of us, do not intend.

The comic rights' of the British people,
Over and over again.

Bypass law's of outlandish slander,
We do not flounder,
The rules' of speech,
Only that of propaganda,
Will you offend, and slander.

The words'

I am no nun,
I am just having some good writing fun.

Poetry

My Poetry nowhere, claims',

The right to ,

An infinite fame.

The Culture Of Algreia.

I had better say something sweet,
About the Algerian meat,
If I leave them out,
I know they will surly shout.

Even though, I went through a storm,
The people, markets', weddings',
Customs', culture, were all one.

And though I did slander; Algeria
Of that I admit,
I wish I had the Patience to hold it in,
But when it came down to it,
It was just my weak skin.

So, though I did rumor,
I meant no harm,
I was tested and teased,
But when it came down to it,
I was drawn to my knees'.

The Core

Driving lessons' and such thing's,
Dont interest me anymore,
For you have robbed me of everything,
To my very core.

The strength of the heart

If you have strength of heart,
Then that's all you need,
To path your own way.

For whatever you deny me,
God will grace me with,
Whatever you lay.
God will path me, my way.

Like that of the pure orphan,
I am in his hands',
No one will,
Diminish his outstanding plans'.

You may think you are in control of this and that,
But as a matter of fact,
You are in contempt,
For you have transgressed,
God's descent.

The Scam ?

If you think I don't say what I mean,
Then just test me,
I will fall like the pink blossom flower.

In the gentle wind,
Go and have that big diamond ring,
Nothing interests' me apart from what is real.

And if I find that it has all been a lie,
I have faced my book,
with grace like that of a gentle winters' pace.

The Plan

When I saw that look on your face,
When you did say,
Oh, you are in trouble now.

I thought you was talking about a sacred land,
Then I realised, I was part of your plan.

Old Married Couple

I have an,' old married couple,
Who live opposite me,
I check everynight,
To make sure they switch on their light.

One night, I did panic,
When I saw no shine,
I thought maybe they had forgot,
To let me know,
That they are fine.

Doorstep...

Now I know,
You will turn cold,
If I don't share my tip-tapping.

So, I have to get onto the keypad,
Looking to write,
About the passion,
That everyone loves' to hear.

Oh, gosh, you really wish,
To feel that cold step,
Well, here for you then.

My little flower will end.
I never said a romantic thing,
Just a little blossom to remember the spring.
Oh sorry, I meant my king ?.

Italian Pizza

Oh, no, I forgot to visit Italy.
Now; if I don't write about their beautiful dishes',
They will send in the mob,
To give me a bite,
Of their cheese and tomato delight.
So, their pizzas', always', rein supreme.

We all know the delightful dream,
Of Italy's', sour chives', and cream.

Long Spaghetti,
Meat balls', and sauce,
The accent,
The passion,
The womens' beautiful fashion.

Ladies' shoes',
Dresses' of rouge, down to their knees',
Their beautiful graces',
The way they dance,
Along the streets',
With their warm welcomes',
And greets'.

Time

Now, I would like to write something about mum,
The one who does rub my tum.

She washes' my clothes',
Cooks' dinner for me,
Sits' down and studies'.

She takes' the good book,
Relays' the struggle of time,
Telling me to listen to the ancient rhymes'.

The strong time, does she tell,
Remembering our homes',
Of past times', that were lost to many the floods'.

Animals' be drowned and crops' did fail,
To remember the struggle of time gone by,
Of our forefathers', cry.

Be good, don't forget,
The writings' that are going to be,
In your book.

I am your mum,
I look after you,
So you can grow, taking the time,
To remember what you owe.

My children and their tree.

What happened to the beutiful tree,
The one that shone against the sun,
In the garden where the kids' do play,
It was such a shocking view,
That I did see this day,
My heart really did run away.

It sadden my heart,
To see what they had done,
My poor kids',
Will miss that sweet williow tree,
Green and lush did it run,
Down the side of a beautiful sun.

You cut it's branches,
You slashed it through,
Oh, my what a terrible view.
The first thing my kids' did say,
Was, " Mum, what happened to the tree ? ",
I had to reply,
They cleaned it through, and through,
Leaving it bare,
My gosh, what a terrible view.

If this is what I saw this day,
Imagine the rest of destruction they do lay.

Gosh, the cheek

Oh my gosh,
What a cheek,
The future will look so bleak.

Here is a charm that claims',
Change will always' rein.

Than when we set a time,
And the scale,
They are quick to derail.

Thanks' For That.

Thank you everyone,
I hope you had fun,
I had a great time too,
What a whizz for me.

Your the best,
People I have ever met.
Thanks' for that,
The unforgivable act.

The grasshopper breed

How to eradicate the grasshopper ,
Who destroy that beautiful cropper,
You plant that seed.
When that fiend does lay,
To eradicate that pray,
You have to burn the plant stem.

Insure that you have relayed the next crop,
For the new season, and if the crop fails', relay the logic of reason.
Until the fiend is but not strong,
It might take a few years',
But when the jobs' done,
The crop will replenish,
And the town would have won.

Congratr'ulations'.

You gave me a very long run.
You put me at the bottom of the tallest mountain.

I never did stop.

But now that I am sort of run through,
I need time to have a brew.

The Truth

I didn't claim anything,
Maybe, I only claimed to be good,
After the closing of my old book.

For when you start afresh, and clean,
Your pages' will gleam.
Don't worry about jealousy,
God will give you the strength to carry it through.

Always' be strong to leave the wrong.
Who was that guy, I am sure it was, (.)( ).

The Story

So, now my tail has been told,
Old and forgotten.

Let it be a lesson to you all,
Who wishes' for their book,
To be splashed in the news'.

Now you must know,
That I am you.

The Rats'

Now I have something to say to you all,
But dont get offended because I love you too.

Enticement, entrapment,
She always' took the bait,
Than you had the cheek to claim you was her mate.

She done the slander, that is true,
But if you were true too,
Than it would have stopped at you.

But instead you took it to your mate,
To instigate trouble,
To make her look double.
The two-face girl,
She was who,
Maybe, just maybe,
She was you.

Who ?

I have nothing, she does say,
They take all my stuff away.

They are thief's, she says,
She, who never share's the way.

Sorry I say, who is the thief, here today,
Is not my belonging's shared by you.

You keep your stuff ,
Away it's true,

So, who is the thief, this day,
Not me, I say.

The House Will Come To Play

The house will come today,
In a land lost to slaves',
You say you are,
But true,
Because you are,
The chosen who,
If that is true,
Then you need to lead,
By example too.

The Taxi

The car's on the street,
The shoppers' compete,
To get a warm seat.

The warm seat they share,
Upon the frost driven chair,
Feeling the cold winter's' air.

The kettle's on the hob,
The shopper would stop,
To hitch the ride.

Come back and pay,
Again and again,
With a nice brew,
To ease the strain,
Of the cold shopper's pain.

Sit down dear,
Lets' get you a brew,
Only one will do.

I'll have to stop here,
The next time I shop.
What a nice lot,
Of drivers', in stock.

The brew and the air are not bad too,
So when I am out,
I'll stop by the shop,
Get some rich tea biscuit's,
For the good lad's,
Who struggle and strive,
To get us home, from our beautiful buy's.

Kiss

Ah, ha, so you finally caught me,
My big sisters',
I thought I had fled,
I thought I had run,
Only to find out, that you guys',
Were mum.

Kiss Loads'.

The One Who Knew

Why wasn't it she,
Who didn't flee,
The paid family.

It played on the mind,
Many a time,
She was an orphan,
One of a kind.

Sent in the mob,
Tried to win,
But she was the one who did grin.

Shouldn't have paid,
Really believed,
It wasn't a responsibility.

But as time grow on,
Saw, sunshine that shone,
Maybe this orphan, was meant to be,
Part of the united family ?.

The plot and the scheme,
The blackmail theme,
Failed and failed.
Blackmail went pale.

India's Tea

I had this aunt,
Who loved to drink tea,
Not just any old cuppa,
It had to be,
The India Tea.

Porcelain china,
She did say,
Not that one today.

Her guests' use to come,
To sit in wait,
For their best mate.

What was that, you might say,
The India way.

I used to stand in the kitchen,
To listen to the chatter,
The crowd who loved to natter,
Over their nice brew,
From the India crew.

Don't you forget,
To keep the tea warm,
For the nice welcome,
Of the old natter,
For the best chitter chatter.

I use to stand in the kitchen,
With the tea pot,
Listening as they made words' for the day,
Dreaming of the fields',
Where they do plot,
The next crop,
For that old shop,
Where me aunt did pay,
For the best brew,
From the India crew.

I used to stand half the day,
By that old kettle,
Wishing I was free,
Like the kids' who plant that beautiful tea.

Disgrace

If good people are bad,
Then who are the bad people ?

Virtue

A woman's virtue,
Is her grace, of this wonderful faith.

She adorns' your palace,
With wonderful lace,
With her face, perfumed grace.

Then you come with your spike,
And give her a disastrous hike.
Leaving her plastered, disgraced.

Oh, she will give you a nice word,
Need I say; what the name calling,
She will give you back, not the adorning.
Of a beautiful name.

She will be sweet, as you treat her delicious meat,
With the right etiquette's', of the eat.

The woman's adorning,
In the morning,
Will be at your feet,
To greet you so sweet,
With the right etiquette's', to meet.

The flight will take place,
If your disgrace; is against a woman's sweet embrace.
So, becareful to take, the woman's haste,
In place of disgrace, next to the banished, marital sin,
You will not win.

The Gamblers' Place

Oh, Gamblers' fleet,
Do you not meet,
The childrens' feet,
Of India.

Oh, Gamblers' fleet,
Do you not greet,
The carpet loom,
Of India's groom.

The childrens' feet,
Do sweat as they make,
While you bet,
All of the rate,
Oh, my, what a state.

You live all the while,
While your children do pile,
No food in the fridge.
Does it have to be,
Just India.

The children do sit, six at a time,
While they work, from six in the morning , 'til nine.
They lace the carpet sweet,
While we walk on the mat,
With our shoes', from the street,
Oh, have you not met,
The children who fret,
For fifty pence a week,
India's fleet.

Feeling too weak,
To flee the trade that pays',
For their family to eat, just a few bits' of nice meat.
In India.

Oh Gambler, please meet,
Our dear children,
So weak.
From here to the coast of India.

They line the coast,
In wait for the day,
Their ship will arrive; at a dock that will provide,
A new life, for a people who do strive.
In India.

As for the children, who grow up with a father who graces' the Gamblers' parlour,
They feel the fret of their mothers' debt.

Living in fear of the alcohol cheer,
At the failure of the cost of the debt,
Oh, it is the place of the Gamblers' grace,
That holds' the future of the childrens' haste,
To leave their homes', to flee their mothers' ,
Who are beaten to give up their purse, to feed and nurse.

Go now, to the Gamblers' place,
Do you know its' wonderful grace.

Lets' all cheer,
Our winnings' are here.

Where are they ?, your children do say.
In the hands' of the shop,
Who is like a bin,
For the children who never grin.

Leaving in fear of the Gamblers' dream,
Go now and feel your Gamblers place,
It's haven, oh, how you love the day.

You sit in your chair, you stare at the screen ,
Awaiting for your horse, to come in.

When it arrives', in last place,
You do scream,
I wish, I did bet, the one next to my mate,
For he is grinning, as he is making his next markings'.

The next bet comes' in, and he waits', greedy he does grin,
Red faced and sad , does he leave ,
When his horse does flee,
His mates', laughing at him,
As he leaves' with his head down,
Out of that place,
The hell has brought the haven down.

Go now, leave your kids',
They will be alright,
Next time you win,
Or, will that bet, never come in ?.

I believe in,
Nine until five, so you and your wife will thrive.

Living with your children,
Addressing their needs',
So they grow and eat,
Be strong to stand on their two feet,
To eat from the sweet breeze,
Of their family line.

Go away from that place, leave that old street,
Be brave,
Never to grace,
The home of the never winning.
It is but an end, to no beginning.

The Dog' Picnic

Oh, you funny dog,
Who does help the blind.

Why do you do it ?,
Oh, you do poo it,
All over our lawn,
Where we wish to be seen,
Eating vanilla ice cream.

Oh, you funny dog,
You walk right the way through it,
While you do, do it,
On our lawn that we wish to adorn,
With beautiful blankets'
And picnics', past dawn.

Oh, you funny dog,
Why do you do it ?,
Why do you poo it ?,
Over our luscious lawns.

Where our children wish to be seen, playing football ,
And eating ice cream.

Oh you funny dog,
You leave your poo it; while you do; do it,
All over the place, where our kids' play.

Why do you do it ?,
Why Do you poo it ?,
Where the kids' play,
A wonderful grace,
In a park full of your poo it,
Please walk my friend, over the other end.

The Barren Land

Maybe it was not me,
But was God's plan,
For he is the one who understands',
The ways' of Societies' murderous hand.

Maybe God has a plan,
A bigger plan than you will ever understand,
To release the heart of this barren land.

We are all part of destinies' hand.
God help us all,
Carry his plan,
He is the almighty hand.
Who does write our lives' for us,
Before we walk his land,
Before we hit his dust.

Turn to him, for he is love.

Words'

How many different ways'; there are, of writing poetry.

The Book

Oh, people of ye, that; who do judge,
Do you not believe, that your book, too,
Will lie, in wait for you.
Oh; how dear, I hold mine, to my heart,
Open for you all to see,
My heart if surely free.

Fragrant Mind

It is easy to be mean,
Ugly and unclean.

But to be good and kind,
With a fragrance of mind.

Is the hardest thing,
You will surely find.

How many people,
With souls', who have dark riddle.

But to find a soul, one of a kind,
Who lights' the world,
With beautiful smells',
Is surely the hardest thing.

Even the clearest of springs',
Will have mud,
That you can not touch.
Laying at the bottom of its', richest floods'.

Wait For It

Wait for it,
Wait for what;
Oh, darn it, I forgot.

Sheba Free

Who is she,
The Sheba free,
Who can relate,
Articulately.

It's not me,
I am but a mumble, bumble.

Who is she,
The Sheba free,
Who can speak,
So accurately.

It's not me,
I am just a twitter-tweeter,
That sometimes' finds, a little mutter,
Over the morning butter.

Oh, who is she,
The Sheba free,
Who finds those words',
That flow like the spread of butter.

It's not me,
I have a little stutter,
I try my best not to utter.
Over that tasty butter.

Give Me A Bite

I know this guy,
Who would surely die,
If I didn't write anything about apple pie.

So, I decided to write about; a fresh food dish,
It has to be said, that cherry pie,
Is the best.

Oh, I should not mince my word's,
Because of the chef,
He is so mean; when it comes to, rhubarb and cream.

Meat dish, lamb and fish,
Don't tell the chef,
He hates a mess.

Rather; he likes his kitchen, sparkling clean,
Why is that chef, so mean.

Working all hours',
For a taste supreme,
No one can have a kitchen so clean,
Like a mad chef,
Who makes the best,
Meaty meal.

Oh; how really, real.
Give me a bite,
Of apple crumble delight.

Save it for my tummy,
I love yummy.

Fragrance Sweet

If you pick a rose,
As deep as the reddest passion,
It's fragrance and scent,
Like the fresh breeze of honey suckle dew.

You pick the petals' one by one,
What will you have left to bare,
A stem of the flower's head.

Though it's fragrance,
Will not be sweet,
And it's color faded bleak.

The seeds', will you find,
They will fall to the ground,
To meet; the tree of willow-side creek.

By willow - side creek, we walk.
In the soft breeze we talk.
We pass by the old stalks',
Of flowers' that once stood,
In the summer time breeze,

That spread, their sweet fragrance,
Of love, over the stream's and above.
Making passionate perfume for us .

Oh, sweet life of love.

Political, Stir - Fry

I saw an image today,
A cold image,
Past history does inflame,
The king, a theatrical hermaphrodite, oh please, not again.

You claim, relation ties',
Conflict here, does tell that stale lie,
Our beautiful community of hermaphrodites', do you offend ?

Leave it out, or our furthering political ties', will bend,
Do you understand, my friend,
Is it, not derogatory, best at still,
You do offend, the human grace,
Of our beautiful hemapohrodites'
Within our human race.

Furthering political ties'; abandonment of past events',
We wish for clear skies'.
Like the rain that falls' from the sky,
Washing away the political lie.

Leave the lie to die,
An image of, what you like,
Our people to eat,
The political route,
To stir-fry, you and your dirty lie.
Of past community events',

Our people, our lives',
A true way, awaits',
When images' of king George,
Do you portray,
Though fashion was it best display,
Are not you the one whose say'
Lets' display the fashion of the day.