Grass

The smell of cut grass ,
drifts across the fields,
Like the late rays of summer sun.
The tractors have danced their side by side
Ballet of scooping and baling,
For the winter feed of farm animals.
All is peace and pecking seagulls
In the turned earth.
While the trees sing with birds.

Sores

After we have our talk
I take a walk to clear my head
The sun still shines
Though the clouds form lines of grey
And the evening sky
Almost makes me cry as I remember
The way it used to be
When we were young and free, and not so scarred

Whatever happened to those days
When we could amaze each other?
When full of laughter
It seemed as if happy ever after was made for us.
We would discuss
How the world was there for us to take
In our heads we were wise
But our eyes just could not see the truth.

And now it comes to this
The end of the bliss of love's blossom
The crooked jigsaw's final pieces
That ceases the pain
When the end began
And when it ran away from us I don't know
But now the open sores
Of our petty wars have a chance to heal.

Criminal

Do they give you some discomfort
Sleeping rough on the street?
Are they not the sort of people
You usually like to meet?

Would you like to do something for them
Give them a helping hand?
A little push to start them off
Like fining them a grand.

Plus the bonus of a criminal record
That should do the trick
The Hackney Council version
Of giving them a right good kick.

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/thousands-sign-petition-calling-on-london-borough-of-hackney-to-stop-criminalising-homeless-people-10295269.html

Propose

What is a proposal?

Is it a private declaration of love.
An innate desperation,
That you cannot live without,
That other person.
You need them beside you always,
Indeed your life would be poorer,
Without that husband or wife to be,
Who you adore above all others.
After all, you are in love.

Or is it a public display.
Something that will stay in the memory forever,
An event to be told,
And worth every cent of that bold idea.
Location more important,
And must be photographed.
The self gratification of money spent
On daft ideas. The act of exhibition,
And the cost overwhelming,
And the meaning of the moment lost.

Tribes

We may be technologically advanced,
But we are still a tribal species.
Whether it's shunning those born,
Within different lines on a man made map,
Or showing mistrust for those
With skin of different colours.
And even within our own tribes,
Intelligence can be seen as a threat.
Especially when shown by those,
Without a penis between their legs.
Maybe if we understood that we
Are essentially all the same,
It wouldn't be so easy to find,
Somebody else to blame.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-32883122

Wool

We are much like the blind and the deaf,
As we stutter through our lives and loves,
Relying on the media to be our eyes and ears.

We trust them,
We put our faith in their honesty,
In their incorruptibility.
We think that they point us in the direction we asked,
Or translated into signs the speech we indicated.
We think nothing of ulterior motives.

But maybe we have pulled the wool,
Over our own eyes,
Stuffed our own ears with cloth.
And perhaps if we remove it,
We may find that the world is not quite as we thought.

Overslept

A range of thoughts can go through your head,
As you lie in bed, waking.
Fear and shock and questions too,
Surprise for sure,
As it would appear you've overslept,
And missed your alarm.

And then the calm sets in,
The rational thinking.
Revise the morning routine,
Slate what you don't need,
And optimise your tasks.
If you move at top speed,
You won't be late for work.