Verses.



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mr-bong@blueyonder.co.uk

Blaring out over the sea.

Once there was a man who was proclaimed ultra cute,
Who actually convinced his Boss that he could be Canute,
Said chief could quell insurgence just with his voice,
And use of phrases this mentor deemed choice,
And Lo how it worked, the sea did not reach,
Little realising others were moving the beach,
And any dissenting tides that appeared,
Were carefully stained and receded quite smeared,
Any overt threat of a rogue wave to break,
Was flattened out early, and viewed just a mistake,
But then our mentor was not there any more,
Leaving the King quite alone on the shore,
And faced with a renewed tide of dissent,
His feeble words drowned, and his clothing was rent,
For no one was working at shifting the sand,
No more glib illusions, no more sleight of hand,
Just a shadowy figure at last seen in the light,
By a new sense of vision, a new sense of right,
Now lying crumpled at the mark of high tide,
Where the sea of opinion has tossed him aside,
Seen at his fall as an empty rattling shell,
Devoid of substance, and bobbing in swell,
That dreamed a delusion of power so great,
And now is but humbled by truth and by fate.


Other Powers.
And on the breeze of the wind that blew
Came a sound both loud and clear
That tingled its way up my spine
And whispered in my ear
And the sound became the voice
And the voice spoke quite precisely
With answers to my questions
And visions to entice me,
It showed me all the mysteries
Once shrouded but now quite bright,
It showed me I had been in darkness,
Even though there is such light,
It gave me a sense of magic
A glimpse of times gone by
It showed me all the mysteries
Betwixt this earth and sky.
Then suddenly it was gone away
So quickly, like it came
And I never knew its origin
Never knew its name
Never guessed its intent
Or why it chose me on that day
No sooner had it appeared to me
Than it had silently gone away.
And though its far away now
In another time and place,
I occasionally get glimpses
Of what it tried to trace,
Which at the time were sublime
And clear as crystal in my mind,
But now seem a little confused
And to deteriorate with time.
I wonder one day in the future,
Whether I will finally know
Everything that was shown to me
On that day so long ago.


Stiffsteiff Bear.

Who is going to save us,
Who really has a care
Who will produce miracles
Yes only Stiffsteiff bear.

Chorus.
Stiffsteiff bear is big and strong
Stiffsteiff bear is tough
He will save us from disasters
He will be enough
Some see him just a teddy bear
A cuddly furry toy
But he will still avert all evil
And deflect dastardly ploy.

when its dark and cold
When its damp and dank
When the devils minions
Are slowly closing ranks
When we seem in dire danger
In threat of global war
The big cuddly stiffsteiff bear
Will save us like before.

Voles.

Id hate to be a wombat
Opossum or a mole
Brown bear or an elephant
But id love to be a vole
Cos your voles are cute and cuddly
Voles are kind of neat
They dont get shot or trodden on
Or kept for humans meat
Voles are kind of hip
In a furry sort of way
So im going to take some time off
To be a vole today.

Aged Anna

When we are young we wish ourselves
Older and ever older by the minute
In a headlong rush for savoir faire
Pushing boundaries to the limit
But then we advance through our teens
Not quite as perceived or hoped
Eventually praying for the twenties
Those still sane and not eloped
Or serving in the foreign legion
Or some other idealistic plan
That surely will make the difference
And change the course of man
Then its work that takes the place
Of school college and Uni
When pretending that were really normal
Fully knowing we are loony
And pensions advisors hover
And savings are strongly mooted
And marriage plus children are suggested
And other things not remotely suited
To our original glowing visions
Of utopia in our dreams of heaven
What we saw ourselves becoming
By the time we turned twenty seven,
Its not quite what we envisaged
And twenty one flew by too
But today simply take it slowly
And pretend youre really twenty two.
Time to worry when the presents
Are for wrinkles and for toning
And youre not wild and fancy free
But a little tired and groaning,
So enjoy this one and few more yet
And dont believe what youre always told
Youre as young now as you want to be
Were just over programmed to be old.


Direct Emails mr-bong@blueyonder.co.uk



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