The 5000 Spirits or the Layers of the Onion

The bent twig of darkness Grows the petals of the morning It shows to them the birds singing Just behind the dawning Come dip into the cloud cream lapping I can't keep my hand on the plough Because it's dying But I will lay me down with my arms Round

Cracks rack the windows, Howls hold the floor; Rains rot the rafters, And do you just have to snore? It's a most inclement climate, for the season of the night, Is that mouse playing football, oh I thought they didn't like the light? And the dawn com

Oh seekers of spring how could you not find contentment In a time of riddling reasons in this land of the blind By the joke of fate alone it's sure that as the loved hand leaves you You clutch for the slip-stream, the realness to find But do what you

When the morning of your eyes comes waking through my shadows Leaving just a trace of twilight sleep, I whisper to the baby raindrops playing on my window, And tell them gently this is not the time that they should weep. For somewhere in my mind ther

First girl I loved Time has come I will sing you this sad goodbye song When I was seventeen I used to know you Well, I haven't seen you now since many is the short year And the last time I seen you, you said you'd joined the Church of Jesus But me, I