Oh sweet gentle morning

Oh sweet gentle morning

Oh sweet water flowing

Cross pastures and meadows

Sweet breezes blowing

Sun bright, clear sunlight is shining

Blue, blue sky, fresh breath is aligning

Oh sweet gentle morning

Oh sweet water flowing

Along by the seashore

Eating mackerel on rye

Over blue misty mountains

Under cool wispy fountains

Oh sweet gentle morning

Oh sweet water flowing

From Arizona to Egypt

The rock face and the delta

The air we are breathing

The clothes we are weaving

Oh sweet gentle morning

Oh sweet water flowing

In Piccadilly Circus

Over Wordsworth’s London bridge

The tourists are flocking

The Cafes and pavements are rocking

Oh sweet gentle morning

Oh sweet water flowing

The sculptures are fondled not fumbled

The galleries are wandered and wondered

Expressions of beauty

Of love and desire

Oh sweet gentle morning

Oh sweet water flowing

And now we’ll take tea

Our oat cakes by the fire

We’ll open the paper

Enjoy the magazine The Wire

Oh sweet gentle morning

Oh sweet water flowing

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Wireless spokes

Lightness after loss

Hope after dark

Life after all

Unchained, free, freed

From inert confusion

Delusion dispersed

Lightness before daybreak

Sleep with dreams

Sleep in peace

Unchained, released restraint

From created capture

Rapture reneged

Lightness during dawn and dusk

Walking without shadows

Walking with angels

Unchained, clasps recycled

From twisted thoughts

And wireless spokes

Lightness under the sun

Lightness under the moon

Lightness, not a moment too soon

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Void

Words without ideas

Words without love

Ideas without love, without words

Mute

Brute

Scoot

Shoot

Thoughts without thinking

Thoughts without drinking

Thinking without drinking, without thought

Dupe

Sloop

Troop

Stoop

Sight without seeing

Sight without being

Seeing without being, without sight

Blind

Mind

Find

Behind

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Low flow the high blow

Low blow the high flow

Trip the tease that strips to please

Low flow the high blow

Waters edge the bather’s pledge

Strip to please the tease that trips

Waters pledge, the bather’s edge

Low flow the high blow

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Come to terms

I’d forgot to grieve

Got up to leave

A mumbling stumbling goodbye

I’d not taken the time to cry

Too too busy not asking why

Caught up in my own insensitivity

Reading some other folks words

Looking at nature, studying birds

Wallowing in the following wind

Now it’s time to come to terms

Wash those wicked feelings, terminate the germs

Wish you all the best, with sincerity

I’m in the country and visiting the city

Writing and reading, words full of self-pity

Drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes

The world has become my oyster

That’s a tricky one, choices can loiter and be foisted

So I’ll catch their word, hoping that’s not too absurd

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Thought transference

You thought your way into my thoughts

And you fought your way right out again

It was your thinking not your drinking

That propped me, stopped me from sinking

Your critical, cryptic crossword completion

Revealed, your subtle sense of reason

And your letters, your letters though sparse and thin

Your written words sold me, fever rising, muse within

Your turn of phrase with unnerving staring gaze

Razor sharp, cutting; may I mention tension raised

The gifts you gathered, the detail mattered

Thoughtful choices, so so soft yet carefully scattered

Even now on leaving

Misbelieving there’s no articulated deceiving

Your thoughts I’m holding high

In my sinking, slinking, thinking

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At the dogs again

The steam room and the sauna

They are my racetrack, my sweet fleeting fauna

The swimming pool and the meditation star

They are my cigarette, my whisky, my pimp, my bar

Now this simple phraseology, this word psychology

This is my style, not yours, for that I make no apology

The tidy quiet room; laid back jazz and soulful blues

This is my non-hovel, I have no desire to grovel

Yet I read your works and marvel at your creation

Your escapades; words, to which I bear no relation

But just to put your mind at rest, in you I did invest

In the Jacuzzi; the plumes sure do dress the nest

The volva, the vulva caressed by volcanic water vests

Tattoos on thighs open your eyes, stir feelings blest

And there are girls there with their mothers

And ladies going on girls, there with their lovers

The lecher stretching don’t take much fetching

When there’s so much skin, skin waving, shaving skin

For inspiration and amusement, when in lent

The spa’s the place to rent

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