Too Bloody Blue – By Paul Holland

There are days when the world is flat,
truly flat
When she can’t raise her head
As the winds that blow only for her
Catch in her eyes
He brings her his dull, tired conversation
We all can create the cage that binds us
She slumped in the seat
Someone phones and her face lights up
And the girl emerges
But for him this girl has long since left the building

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The Bog Road (By Paul Holland)

When you go to the bottom of the well

In sadness scrabbling the deep ooze and

Mud scrambling around below

The talk then is of the climb back up but

There are sometimes valuable things down there

Peopled from times past

Reasons to go down

The echo of words spoken of those who went before

Their history hopes and dreams now spent for themselves

But cast there not to be weighed down and hold fast the present

But given for us to find

A safe ballast

With twisted golden torc through free

To other lands

Our future theirs

Their dreaming hands wrought twists

Living longer than flesh

Dreaming remains

Golden summer or winter night

Livings loud delight

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