Chapter Eight
In a Blink of an Eye
No.108
Right
© Copyright Reserved - United Kingdom
Ideal Screen Composition 1024 x 768
Ideal Screen Composition 1024 x 768
Author: Nigel G Wilcox 18.01.23
Throw me back through time and space
Give me a rope around my waist...
To pull me back, when we are disgraced...
And the earth is tired of our species and race...
Today in my past the tripling brook
My farmhouse age, a revisit a new look;
As a child open eyed with adventure gauged.
The small school upon the downs to attend as if on stage
With a tough headmaster, from the bygone days
The nearest town so far away
To walk or to pedal seemed like a day
The disused railway, was to shorten the time
A gift from the Heaven for a playground of mind
The wild plants and animals intertwined with leftover of rail ballast,
The undergrowth reclaimed in smaller spaces of broken solace
Old aggregate of basalt, gneiss and granite
Hard shapes that framed or acted like a trellis.
On hearing the trickling brook, once again
The swallows dive, with a playful look
The spider's web shivers as the wind gently blows
And the soily banks the snowdrops grows,
By the trees the bluebells, ferns, daffodil and foxgloves
One would play for hours alone, within the pastel colours.
It was all value and Devine, innocence and inclusion.
The winter years could be tough in a house without heat,
Jack frost climbed the windows finding gaps and water that leaked
So no one could see out at the landscape bleached
With the log fire hissing and spitting as one toasted their feet
Cold from the sides and cold from behind
The cold air played tricks when one moved and grabbed more sticks
Infront; our faces were hot and red,
On went the woollens and hot water bottles for bed,
Our entertainment was a radio or a black and white set
A TV with valves that seem to hiss and click a bit
A crackle here a crackle there, an aerial lifted higher to the level of stair
To get a picture that was not always there
Over time, this did change, better TVs and radios declared
Innocence was betrayed like a cancer grew
Dark shadows came out of the blue.
A move to the cities a disillusion, one knew .
In our small world there were no shadows in life
Only natural natures of calamities and strife
Values and morels took their course
Depleted or cancelled by a negative force
People changed and the shadows grew
Greed, from commercialism and Politian's, they knew
Corruption was the template and deceiving the truth
Indoctrinated, the young and one bleeds for the time of one's youth
To each generation one will see the ballast, the stone
Built up to display, the wealth and progress of this mallis and control
Controlled by the minority and their entourage
Believing they are a part of their illusion, but can't see they have sold their soul
Our last days; scriptures once foretold, the warnings and prophecies of old
A fairy tale suggested by the corrupted powers, cultures destroyed,
Such wasteful hours
There were the chickens, the rabbit, cats and a dog, hamsters and ponies
The horses that nod, they all needed feeding and stalls re-cleaning
Whatever month or time of year, the summers were good, the winters bare
With the silhouettes and the white mists when one exhaled out warm air
Snow on the surface with drifts all around, the trees were bare, no leaves surround
The water still trickled and snaked through the ground, like a black serpent eternal bound
The hard days of struggles and hard days of strife, remembered fondly as a child with delight
Today we have the new reality, of technology and a corrupt commercial fight..
Without the hardships showing the real pain or the joys that our country's majesty now complain...
As a human, we have lost, the good, the bad like many before to greed and mistrust,
The Earth is scarred, a sacred truth, the lessons not learnt, our species are doomed
History will be erased as of yesteryear and time will play on as it did before
Heaven one day will say enough! The skies will fall and the ground erupt
To start again the big reset as is what and is truly meant.
Give me a rope around my waist...
To pull me back, when we are disgraced...
And the earth is tired of our species and race...
Today in my past the tripling brook
My farmhouse age, a revisit a new look;
As a child open eyed with adventure gauged.
The small school upon the downs to attend as if on stage
With a tough headmaster, from the bygone days
The nearest town so far away
To walk or to pedal seemed like a day
The disused railway, was to shorten the time
A gift from the Heaven for a playground of mind
The wild plants and animals intertwined with leftover of rail ballast,
The undergrowth reclaimed in smaller spaces of broken solace
Old aggregate of basalt, gneiss and granite
Hard shapes that framed or acted like a trellis.
On hearing the trickling brook, once again
The swallows dive, with a playful look
The spider's web shivers as the wind gently blows
And the soily banks the snowdrops grows,
By the trees the bluebells, ferns, daffodil and foxgloves
One would play for hours alone, within the pastel colours.
It was all value and Devine, innocence and inclusion.
The winter years could be tough in a house without heat,
Jack frost climbed the windows finding gaps and water that leaked
So no one could see out at the landscape bleached
With the log fire hissing and spitting as one toasted their feet
Cold from the sides and cold from behind
The cold air played tricks when one moved and grabbed more sticks
Infront; our faces were hot and red,
On went the woollens and hot water bottles for bed,
Our entertainment was a radio or a black and white set
A TV with valves that seem to hiss and click a bit
A crackle here a crackle there, an aerial lifted higher to the level of stair
To get a picture that was not always there
Over time, this did change, better TVs and radios declared
Innocence was betrayed like a cancer grew
Dark shadows came out of the blue.
A move to the cities a disillusion, one knew .
In our small world there were no shadows in life
Only natural natures of calamities and strife
Values and morels took their course
Depleted or cancelled by a negative force
People changed and the shadows grew
Greed, from commercialism and Politian's, they knew
Corruption was the template and deceiving the truth
Indoctrinated, the young and one bleeds for the time of one's youth
To each generation one will see the ballast, the stone
Built up to display, the wealth and progress of this mallis and control
Controlled by the minority and their entourage
Believing they are a part of their illusion, but can't see they have sold their soul
Our last days; scriptures once foretold, the warnings and prophecies of old
A fairy tale suggested by the corrupted powers, cultures destroyed,
Such wasteful hours
There were the chickens, the rabbit, cats and a dog, hamsters and ponies
The horses that nod, they all needed feeding and stalls re-cleaning
Whatever month or time of year, the summers were good, the winters bare
With the silhouettes and the white mists when one exhaled out warm air
Snow on the surface with drifts all around, the trees were bare, no leaves surround
The water still trickled and snaked through the ground, like a black serpent eternal bound
The hard days of struggles and hard days of strife, remembered fondly as a child with delight
Today we have the new reality, of technology and a corrupt commercial fight..
Without the hardships showing the real pain or the joys that our country's majesty now complain...
As a human, we have lost, the good, the bad like many before to greed and mistrust,
The Earth is scarred, a sacred truth, the lessons not learnt, our species are doomed
History will be erased as of yesteryear and time will play on as it did before
Heaven one day will say enough! The skies will fall and the ground erupt
To start again the big reset as is what and is truly meant.
