Belonging

I live here
In a house near a city
At the end of a journey
With hum drum and the day to day

I live here
Have lived here
Thity years and more
A wife a daughter now flown

I live here
But I don’t belong here
I belong on a hillside
With my thoughts and my strangeness

I grew on that hillside
Staring into space
Staring down at the valley
Flood and snow and fields of colour

I live here
I cannot go back
To that hillside
Though it is where I belong

I know that
I shall always know that
To the day when breath it leaves me
And returns to that hillside for all time

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Sons Of Magna Carta

So
My sons of Magna Carta
How does it sit with you
This so-called negotiation
With bureaucrats and fonctionnaires
Unelected arrogance
Snarling in the face of democracy
Rejecting the ballot box of millions
With a desire to punish and belittle

It is time
To stand firm and test their mettle
For they fear their own psyches
Their unity a facade
To protect them from themselves
From the cracks within
And if compromise defeats
Then my sons of Magna Carta
Smile and turn and walk away

Try self-publishing


I worried about self-publishing but finally had a go, over the last 12 months producing six e-books and five paperbacks through Amazon. Their software is fine. No, I don’t expect to make money. That’s not the point. It’s been about self-discovery and trying to be creative. And a feeling of self-worth!