Tag: Guitar Music

DANCING WITH THE SHADOWS

DANCING IN THE SHADOWS We’re dancing with the shadowsTo the heartbeat of the moonWhile you’re out there doing battleTo a bygone marching tune We’re a reality waiting to happenNo longer hiding behind closed doorsYour charisma counts for sweet nothing, my friendWhen there is no mesmerized applause We’re dancing with the shadowsTo the shimmer of the

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LIPSTICK GIRL & TRADING SUITS FOR UNIFORMS

LIPSTICK GIRL & TRADING SUITS FOR UNIFORMS The only sounds I’m hearing are birdsong, bombs and gunsI ask myself the question, ‘Are we the only onesWith eyes that see and hearts that break and hands that paint the scene?While out there in the muddy Somme, they all died aged nineteen’ Scroll forward another century, no

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OLD LADY & HER LIGHT-BULBS

Hiding away where no one can find you is so much better than living out a pandemic locked away in a no man’s land where everyone thinks they ‘absolutely‘ must scores moral points. The old blind lady knew that. She’d lived through wars and famine and years of the hatred of people like her, who

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HONESTY & FABRICATIONS

Honesty and fabricationsAll that glitters can’t be goodSmiles, tears and accusationsTell a kind of truth no one understood I live in a hole in the groundAbove live the germs. Happy germs.They play football most daysIn empty stadiumsMostly thoughThey can get on your nervesThey knock on my door uninvitedChanting songs of imaginary guiltSongs no one needs

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PRIDE & TIME

‘Sunday. The day after the sky ran out of rain‘ I got another request for a song on my blog, this time from the excellent blogger called ‘The Hinoeuma’ – here’s the link  https://cosmic-observation.com/  – definitely worth a visit if you haven’t been there before. The song in question being ‘Pride & Time’.   The story behind

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A MERMAID IN A FISH TANK

I’m a question not an answerYou’re a bullet not a gunDisaster after disasterLike a shadow on the run You’re a mermaid in a fish tankOn a shelf against a wallI’m the wizard without a magic wandBut I don’t care at allBecause in the dead of the nightI think about tomorrowIn the dead of the nightI

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PLACES THEY HAD BEEN STRANGERS IN

In a sentence on a comment on my blog the romantic, smexy style author Shehanne Moore had written the words ‘Places they had been strangers in’. I really like that line. It tells a hundred stories. Kindly, she told me I could use it. That’s just what I did. If you don’t know her blog

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STARLESS MYSTERY

‘Drama’ Most everything we see becomes theatre A wild sea the ocean’s one-night-only stage Up above, storm clouds dancing to the gale’s orchestration And on the shoreline it don’t need any seating to engage An audience of strangers who never bought a ticket This show, the dark clouds have put it on for free Eyes

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THE VIEW FROM ABOVE

‘The Way Back Home’ Just across from me is a place called the Western Heights. It’s now just a local nature reserve, but once during the Napoleonic Wars in the 1860’s, its vast defences were designed to protect Dover from French invasion. It’s been said that the Western Heights of Dover were one of the

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LAST YEAR’S SILHOUETTES

‘Last Year’s Silhouettes’ Historians can’t wait until tomorrow When they’re writing of a time that had no flaws The planet and the wildlife feeling better They think it’s because the humans were locked indoors The interest on borrowed time much too heavy You can’t stop the clock and runaway no more In this place, that

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