Staggering beside the carts, like dull warhorses,

we stumble along endless tracks and mud-souped ditches,

always stooped, intent upon the next step.

Rattling behind, grisly chains of disarticulated bones,

tied by tendons and ligaments, trail beyond past horizons,

 a century of war.

Rainbows always cry.

The holly bears a bloody fruit.

All victors ethically vanquished.

But...

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Prophets in disguise

Search the skies, oh so wise,

Tears, like atoms, don’t decay

Love, like photons, light the way.

A babe against a warmy chest

Dreamt of nets filled with fish

Whilst flight across sand and seas

Brought the donkey to his knees.

All mixed up in snow and ice,

Discarded plastics choke Christmas mice;

We, fat as turkeys, but leaflet thin,

Hear churche...

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It was Christmas Eve in the Abbey

And we sat on pilgrim pew

Tomb- hedged by The Oppressed

 Or History’s Victors blessed.

The candles were all flickering

On martyrs at their rest

And the politics of certainty

Cast shadows at my feet.

The heavy door gusted open

Like musket- hammered wood,

 I retraced intent to keep the warmth

But turned at frosted breath.

The...

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