It's sort of weird and strange sifting through the ashes of days past and coming across the old bone & the planks from all the old ships we've sailed..... Some of mine and some from you who knew this was what we'd do? where did we come from? where will it go? I do not know... and yet I was there on that road. We walked together and we sewed the threads of fate made out of gold And mythic purple blue. So many questions spring to mind So many crumbs for birds to find Only slowly can I see My mind creaks open, grudgingly A ghost ship sailing o're the Oceans Bringing eggs, fires, tea and potions *** I do not know the tales he tells My head is full of tiny bells That ring and ring and signal treasure Handed out in no mean measure I turn the stories round and round Faberge's creation to be found. Worlds of dream catch my attention What is real? Of what make mention?
For 20 years they told me "rest" They said that I was much too stressed They said that I must drink more tea And that bubble baths were good for me And to my shame I must admit It felt really good just to sit After all the years of awfulness. But in the end it made more mess. 😞 "The time is now" - I must do this "The death of hope" - much is amiss I will not rush. I will not fuss. I'll learn the tempo - breathe, not cuss 🥴 but with smooth rhythm and with rhymes I must make my days sublime I must get up off my ass And build a life that is first class And I see! Slow attrition Will beat me! So I'll stop I'll drink more tea And sit and play Then build my day Rook F8 to H8 This is great Thank you
On the table, carved in wood, An incantation, darkly stood. The stranger reads with solemn eyes, Words of power, ancient lies: "When the moon is swallowed whole, And shadows take the darkest toll, A white horse with silver shoes, Will walk at night, its path to choose, When traveler comes, a fate entwined, With dragons, death, and ingots mined." The stranger sips his poisoned draught, And waits in silence, cold and daft. For in this place of darkened lore, The traveler comes, and death walks before But now the black horse moves so slow C3 to E5, his knight in tow
