The Gardener

The garden is a peaceful place, and he
Works there, back bent, does not race
The seeds he plants, they do not rush
But grow contented in the hush

Each flower and tree it has a place
To grow within the garden space
Each bud knows what it has to do
Opening slow petals in various hue

No rules need be written, no factions divide
His work goes on smoothly, flowing as tide
The gardener stands and looks around
Of his sweet garden, he is so proud

Take a close look at his face
The gentle eyes, the smile, the grace
His hands are rough and strongly made
He stops his digging, leans on his spade

This gardener seems familiar somehow
I rack my brain, but I can’t think how
He looks like one I know so well
Have we met before? It’s so hard to tell

He calls me by name and I walk on over
Walking across his grass and his clover
I look in his eyes and then suddenly I know
He reaches my hand and I let myself go

I feel such a great love surrounding me so
The same feeling I had such a long time ago
I’ll just close my eyes now and pass through this screen
All I want is to stay in this garden of green

‘ Come quick!’ shouts the boy, his face flushed and red
‘ Come quickly Dad, Uncle Albert is dead.’

The Blessing

If beauty was all it really took
To write our fame in the cosmic book
If wealth was all important too,
Kings and queens would jump the queue
If the outward signs we try to keep,
Mean more than physical, which sleeps
If face and skin and eyes and hair,
Could last forever then why would we care
About the inner secret dome
Lying inside this fleshy home
If nip and tuck, the almighty pound
Could carry us from material mound
If bank account and coin and cash
Could do one thing to ease the clash
If this all were true and we could claim,
Uncountable wealth and endless fame
Good enough to carry our name
And make us know we are all the same
These things then would be worth the game
Look inside so you will tell,
Ringing pure and like a bell
The soul lies deep in silence guessing,
Waiting for our own sweet blessing.

The Mother

She watched her ailing child all night
She watched alone with eyes too bright
She held his hand with fingers soft
She held him close when he would cough

She never left his side at all
‘ Oh why’ she cried ‘he is so small’
The child beneath her hand was still
She felt his head and felt his chill

‘ Dear God let him live’ she prayed on and on
‘ It has only been six years since he was born
You cannot need him back so soon
I’ll do anything Lord, if you grant me this boon’

Suddenly the little boy opened one eye
He smiled weakly, said ‘Mummy don’t cry
I have to go home now, but please understand
I’ll always be with you, my hand in your hand’

‘ Some day we’ll be together once more
I’ll wait for you, I won’t close the door
My time was short upon the earth
Dear Mum, I’m not afraid of death’

The mother’s love was very great
So the Lord, she did not berate
She watched her child become peaceful and calm
And knew he was in no great harm

His short life was over, of that she well knew
He’d given so much pleasure, though his days were few
He had given freely his love to his Mum
And now this small soul’s time had come

She bent down close to him on the bed
‘ God bless you my son, I love you,’ she said

(taken from The Saurumba Messages 2001)

Rogue Morpheus

The thoughts that rear up at night in the brain, tearing around like a rail-less train
The things to do or not yet done, things to say and songs unsung
Tumbling around like an acrobat flying, I cannot sleep and there’s no use trying
Many a good idea springs from here, but all forgotten in the morning, I fear
I toss, I turn, I get up, I lie down, I count shady squares on the curtains, beige-brown
I decide to do this, I decide to do that, and everything seems very simple, so that
I take off my hat sincerely to me and I think I’ll scribble an idea, two or three
But before I can get myself out of bed rogue Morpheus comes, puts sleep in my head
He lays on my spirit deep dreamless sleep, and despite my best efforts, I cannot keep
Awake now whatever the cost and once more through slumber inspiration is lost.

(from Obeahman & a Pot-Pourri of Other Stories)

The Ballad of Ned Kulchur

I left the Kingdom of Fife and I carried my knife
To Auld Reekie and old Glesga toon
With the others I’d play that I met on the way
To wreak havoc a’ up and doon.
Ned Kulchur

I made a signature fine, that I kept for just mine
So the polis would know it wiz me
In the midst of the fray, they’d hunt night and day
But too late, coz I’d run away, see?
Ned Kulchur

There was Madman and Sox, and the bairn Jamie Fox
An’ some lassies tae, well twa or three
An’ we raised merry hell but when it came tae the cell
I made sure it wiz them, never me.
Ned Kulchur

I was clever at school, wouldn’y stick tae the rules
An’ I left just as quick as I could
I broke my ma’s heart, the stupid auld tart
An’ ma faither I punched where he stood
Ned Kulchur

I’m no a nice man,’ I said tae Leeanne
When she telt me she wiz up the duff
‘ I don’t care whit you say, I’m no gonny pay’
She wiz greetin’, I telt her ‘that’s tough’
Ned Kulchur

She bad-moothed my name, destroyed all my fame
I wiz angry and you’d be the same
She widn’y shut up, yapped on like a pup
Till I lost it but am I tae blame?
Ned Kulchur

So I grabbed her mane, stabbin’ again and again
An’ she quietened doon right enough fast
Her eyes went all red fae the blood on her head
I was shocked at the wound on her, vast
Ned Kulchur

I left her there lyin’ but I felt like cryin’
Leeanne was sixteen, you see
A bit of a hoor, who came fae the sewer
Wi’ less a chance even than me
Ned Kulchur

I ran and I ran till I got tae the dam
Where I washed the blood all clean away
I went and found Rammy and thon eejit Hammy
And I thought up some mischief tae dae
Ned Kulchur

We went intae The Bell, shit and spliffs there tae sell
An’ I flung the first pint doon my neck
‘ Go easy big man,’ said thon eejit Ham
So I put him right intae the deck
Ned Kulchur

Said Mick the Knife, ‘Ned-boy where’s yer wife?’
I frowned coz I knew where she wiz
‘ Mind yer ain Mick,’ I said tae the prick
And my insides were startin’ tae fizz
Ned Kulchur

I seen her again, face in ribbons and then
I couldn’y see nothing more
I didn’y feel weel, so I popped a blue peel
And I battered Mick till he wiz sore
Ned Kulchur

‘I’m calling the police,’ said the barmaid Bernice
But I couldn’y let her do that
‘ On no ye don’t’, by fuck ye won’t’
My gless caught her in the eye, flat
Ned Kulchur

Fae there things got worse, I wiz pit in a truss
Dumped in the polis station
‘ I didn’y dae it.’ They said ‘scum just save it’
And the cell wiz my destination
Ned Kulchur

‘You’re not so smart now,’ said the judge, rotten cow
An’ I stood there all sorry and sad
I wore a suite new, and I spoke proper too
A very respectable lad
Ned Kulchur

The judge wiz a nyaff, and so I got aff
Wi’ a speech and a piss easy fine
I got some money fae Peehead and Honey
It sure as hell beats doing time
Ned Kulchur

They want me doon sooth, I heard fae the mooth
O’ a punter whose name is Yum-Yum
I’ll play his game, and spread oot my fame
In Manchester, London and Brum
Ned Kulchur

Like a general I’ll lead, teach the English my creed
And my army will spread – whit a team
Maybe I’ll forget, aboot Leeanne and yet
I see her whenever I dream

(from Obeahman & a Pot-Pourri of Other Stories)

Unlucky Brother Ron

If there was an prize for Unluckiest Man my brother Ron would win it
Last week he smashed his blue work van and he wasn’t even in it
When he goes on hols to sunny Spain, the skies they open up and rain
‘Oh no,’ he wails ‘notabloodygain,’ but every year it’s just the same
He went to town to buy some shoes, and he tried them on to fit
When he got home he got the news, one brown one black, ‘That’s it!’
His patience shot he went to the shop, to buy a lotto ticket
Inside jacket pocket he did drop, in case someone would nick it
He handed over a single pound which in his pocket he had found
When his watch with a dreadful sound smashed itself upon the ground
Brother Ron just walked away, praying for a better day
When good luck would come to stay and all the bad would go away
Then he got onto a bus, sat beside a man in a truss
Who had a face like a blunderbuss, but Ron’s not one to make a fuss
Ron laid his jacket carefully on knee, he was going to visit his sister, that’s me
From the bad luck he tried to flee, and we’d be the same, wouldn’t we?
When he got to my door, he had to pick me off of the floor
And I let out a mighty roar, and the words from me did pour
I really was excited you see, for Unlucky Ron won the lottery
‘ Oh yes,’ he cried ‘oh yes indeedy,’ then his face turned really quite seedy
‘ My wallet, my ticket, Oh God what have I done?’ Poor brother Ron took quite a turn
‘ Rightsthat’sbloodyit,’ he said again and again, and walked outside into the rain
I called him later to see all was well, he answered the phone first ring of the bell
‘ I think your luck has turned at last, all bad news is in the past,
Now you really can have a blast, buy a boat with a mast
You can do what you will, and not have to worry about the bill
You can travel over every hill, but don’t forget your sister Jill –‘
But brother Ron cut through my flow, ‘I can’t,’ he said ‘ohbloodyno!’
‘ My luck’s all bad, my heart a blister, so don’t leave your day job yet, dear sister
I’m doomed, I’m cursed,’ he said in rile, and the words he used were extremely vile
He went on and on, he went the mile, and this is really not his style.
I never heard him so much cuss - ticket and jacket were still on the bus.