Release

A surprise capture, release in the wild 

Fear on his face as a little child 

Into the field, through the woods 

Away he goes, like I hoped he would 

Put off the way

where the cold wind blows 

Snow covered hilltops  

Icy covered roads 

Slipped on the slate 

Metro has a crash 

The little red car 

A fix cost too much cash 

Out in the sticks  

Wondering what to do  

On the way to Kent  

for it’s there I flew 

live in a house though I owe my due 

couldn’t tell you why  

thrown to the wind 

What else could I do 

Kent the garden of England

Not sure that’s true 

at least I’m not an animal

in a Wild West Cotswold Zoo

Injustice

Impervious to the blood stained Nile 

A hypocrite walking a mile 

arriving in his Mercedes’ Benz  

at the end of the race

puffing with egg on his face

Redundancy leaves her without a home 

interest through the roof 

Politicians putting on a brave face 

while rubbing hands together  

saving cash on higher rates 

What a disgrace!  

The old gentleman dies from a weakened immune 

his friends felt he died too soon 

Well no one cares in that place 

Treating the elderly without any grace 

taking all the beds!  

The homelessness are not fed 

Pleased to be sleeping in a tent or a shed 

Still, I’m still okay Jack 

got the sack on my back  

On my own and on the right track  

reaching the tip of a mountain swoon 

Jumping from way up in the sky  

Hoping to fly into the clouds up high 

Not even that, at the end I would  

Know I’m free from this life…if be..I could

A.C. Milan

Go right, drift from the left 

feet crossed, warning from the ref 

flick & turn, move upfield 

One more challenge, his fate is sealed 

slide in measure, ode to pleasure 

towards the corner, offsets the pressure 

goalie dived backward down 

then climbs up with a wayward frown 

upset pride, feeling like a clown 

the losing side are 1-0 down 

production falls, towards the ground

 in this peculiarly sad Italian town

"Saremo una squadra di diavoli. I nostri colori saranno il rosso come il fuoco e il nero come la paura che incuteremo agli avversari."

— 1899, Herbert Kilpin^[17][18]

Winters edge

Up rose sunshine afore the spring

the howling whistles, shrills a ring

thunder on yet quietly sing

wondering else the winter bring

Snow flurries rush a frequent hale

slippery stone about here now

sitting and fishing, in the eve 

caught ought else’ except a sneeze

A shivering shake, lying wide awake

Rayburn yearning, to bake a cake

no place left to call thine own

nothing remains of a once loved home

She rests

The late summer rain fell, ends a spell of drought,

I hear a song of hunger and going without.

Thunderous water nourished the trees, 

the wind dies down to lower the breeze

the flowers, the lawn, a mist settles in 

the early autumn dawn a new era begins 

Early Thursday, a red sun arose in the morning sky, remembrance of a beautiful day weeks gone by.
 I felt the warmth of my skin  nourishment to the soul loved by kin.    a feeling of peace, deep within 

I recall too soon, the bitter twist of karma    a bite from a vile snake charmer.   tragedy strikes the nation, the news is not good,       our queen is dead, hearts are filled with dread, another conservative leader makes her bed

A full package

Not a person had spoken to him in years 

Without question the best in his field 

A complete package, had not fallen apart

Never let the vultures steal his yield 

The efforts made were uncontested 

All this in a fashionable jacket  

Underneath a vest that is double breasted 

though beauty he could see all around

On the hills and in the ground

this story may seem good and sound

He was the loneliest scarecrow

That would ever  be found