Category Archives: Rymes

Original Poetry & Songs

Who Knew?

We once made men out of Oak and Iron
Then found cardboard will do just as well
If you make it life sized and paint it just right
There’s hardly a soul who can tell.

The Oak and Iron men were too hard to make
And harder still to replace
Now we don’t need the muscle and sinew and nerve
Just a pleasant and smiling face.

If the cardboard gets soggy and falls down in the rain
We’ve a million more I think
If you stand them up all around you
It gives the illusion of strength.

But I hear there’s a place, in a far away land
Where they’re making men out of Stone
And they don’t know the meaning of mercy or peace
And they are stripping the flesh from the bones.

So we’d better go back to the Oak and the Iron
I hope someone remembers how
‘Cause I don’t think cardboard will stand up to Stone
And a sweet smile won’t help us now.

 

The Top Has Been Moved

The Top Has Been Moved
W A Adams

The top has been moved to the bottom
The left is now on the right
The inside’s on the outside
And the middle is nowhere in sight.

Those things laying flat on the ground there
Are the walls that once stood all around
At least we won’t need any windows
And the doors are not to be found.

If you like they can take off you testes
And install them up on your chest
They’ll inject a few drugs,  move a few things around
And I’d rather not think of the rest.

The flag of a failed rebellion
One hundred and fifty years dead
Now frightens the fools who seem not to fear
The Bomb that hangs over their head

Peace has come to Islam
As the heads on the fence can attest
“Burning Man” is a Carney show here
But the sons of the prophet don’t jest.

It’s said that Scientists first learned to sin
In Picardy, that once was so fair
When they heeded the call of the General Staff
And taught them to poison the air.

This was counted a very dark thing
For mans first and last need is to breathe
Chivalry died in that green fog they say
And we see that it’s gone and we grieve.

For Knights and Ladies all knew their parts
They knew why the walls were there
And the windows and doors had a purpose
And were guarded and kept with care

For once the beast has got past the wall
And come thru the window or door
Then you fight for your life where you eat and sleep
And your children’s blood stains the floor.

So, put the top above and the bottom below
The windows and doors where they go
The shield to the left and the sword to the right
So the world may see and know

That if they come over your wall without leave
Your Testes, at least, you have saved
And whatever flag you hold over your head
The same can wave over their grave.

Three men at the Tomb

                Three men at the Tomb                             

                                 by W A Adams

Three men at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

My Father, My brother and me

At the post, day or night

For all eternity

 

Building the Tomb was my father

Who taught us to face the storm

And turn it aside if we could

If not, To keep others from harm

 

In the Tomb is my brother

Who went to take my place

I hear his heart beating still

Though I cannot see his face

 

In front of the Tomb is a pathway

I walk every day and each night

Behind,  thousands who came before

Ahead, those not yet in my sight.

 

I do not stop for the rain

It is only my father’s tears

I do not stop for the snow

It is only the long empty years

 

That my brother might have lived and sang

Of the joy that was in his soul

But he is in his tomb, and I’m on this path

That the world may see and know

 

That he  never will be forgotten

Through the rain, the snow, or the years

So long as brother loves brother

So long as fathers have tears.

What is a Man?

What is a man?
I asked the rabbi
“The image of the living God”

What is a man?
I asked the scientist
“Brother to the worm in the sod.”

What is this creature, I asked the lawyer,
Who can love and hate and forgive?
She consulted page twelve-eighty-nine and said
“Depends on the meaning of ‘IS’.”

MASTER of ALL I SURVEY

Time Turns Over

Despair

Three Marys

The Faith of Our fathers

Taking My Leave

SLEEPING MEMORIES

https://thelastminstrel.files.wordpress.com/2010/12/sleeping-memories-5.mp3                                                                 

   Sleeping Memories by W.A.Adams

 

       

 

 When I was the king of Araby

    And you were the Queen of Cathay

   In a silvered ship with gossamer sails
     
      I came and stole you away

   To an unknown shore in an uncharted sea

      And there at the top of my tower

    I carried you up and laid you down

      And I showed you all of my powers

   We loved till the moon grew pale with envy

      And you had no thought but to stay

   Till the walls had crumbled to ruin

       And the wind blew the dust all away

   When I was the King of Araby

              And you,

  You were the Queen of Cathay

WAITING

                                                         Waiting by W.A.Adams 
       

                                                  I heard the wild bird sing last night

                                                       and he called for me to follow

                                                   But I could not make the choice

                                                       tired of waiting

                                                   He flew off down the hollow.

                                                  And I knew the path he flew

                                                     over wild stream and hill

                                                 But I could not make the choice

                                                      and I am waiting still