THE WILLOW PASS

A straitening of subtle reflexes

lays the sun upon her eyes

spiralling centre circles she

traces with her fingers and toes.

So high, so mighty she sits so small

cross-legged as if she had it all.

Her head held in a loving way

while wandering I witness her as if

she were a prayer and cannot

look away.

Now the willow tree lifts her up

like fresh dew

 she is a child made new.

Yes the Willow Tree lifts her up

So gladly and the wanderers, them

and you,

pass beneath the willow tree

unable not to stare at someone so, so rare.

No Time by Adam Parry

Quick! There's no time to be wasted.
Run fast for the train, get on the bus pulling the day.
All the cars full of people are racing away, but we'll all
go together as slow as can be.
All over the city, all over the land
the lame and the useless are all holding hands,
whilst the rich and the beautiful
follow along and pitifully say
they don't know the way.
The joggers are running
and the sprinters don't quit.
Now the old man on the corner
has run out of booze, but follows the people for
he has nothing to lose. So.
Quick! Put on your glad rags, while music is still
playing, say one last goodbye to the sun and the stars
nod to the morning, don't lock up your house lock up the home
forget all those sadnesses - and pick up your bags.