Countless lines drawn in the sand
impossibly thin and barely seen,
some show how far you may go
some, where you have been.
Not warnings are they,
should you need,
on overstepping boundaries
for personal gain or human greed.
Countless lines drawn in the sand,
who drew them long eons past?
Surely they were put in place,
to keep certain knowledge
within our grasp?
Posted in Avarice, Awareness, Balance, Choice, Greed, Hints, Humanity, Interpretation, Knowledge, Learning, Poem, Progress, Questioning, Warning
Tagged Avarice, Awareness, Choice, Greed, Growth, Interpretation, Knowledge, Learning, Poem, Progress, Questioning
The Dragons, they’re flying, breathing death overall
as Dragon Drums cease to hold them in thrall.
Long aeons they sought for an ending to pain
disavowing cruel bondage
of a race they disdain.
The Dragons are flying, seeking return of their gold
’twas plundered with avarice, every piece sold
‘twill serve thee to listen, find every last trace
or has thy heart been transformed
a golden effigy in place.
The Dragons are flying, they come seeking blood
cease beating the Drums, ’twill do thee no good.
Shackles are broken, ’tis vengeance they crave
they come in their thousands,
the human race to enslave
Fyrespike, denies any knowledge of above attack, and thereby In no event shall he be liable for any incidental, indirect, consequential or special damages of any kind, or any damages whatsoever, including, without limitation, those resulting from loss of profit, loss of contracts, goodwill, data, information, income, expected savings or business relationships, whether or not advised of the possibility of such damage, arising out of or in connection with the aforementioned slavery of humans. So,… that’s alright then?
Posted in Avarice, Cruelty, Death, Dragon Drums, Dragon Lore, Dragons, Dreamscape, Fantasy, Greed, Human Nature, Narrative Poem, Poem
Tagged Cruelty, Death, Destruction, Dragon Drums, Dragon Lore, Dragons, Dreamscape, Fantasy, Gold Lust, Greed, Narrative Poem
The pick pocket smiled as he reached swiftly inside
the old ladies handbag, it was left open quite wide..
He had seen something glinting, probably quite rare
He knew he wanted it and besides, she was not there.
The old lady smiled as she stood by the room door
watching the young man, who was a thief for sure
searching for valuables, taking anything he could
her money, her broach, and an old carving of wood.
The pick pocket smiled casting his eyes around
quite sneakily, as a small mouse making no sound
and strange it should be that was how it came to pass
as a mouse, changed and squeaking, truly cursed alas…
The Carving was special, been in her family for an age,
gifted to them personally as they’d helped an ancient sage
He told them of it’s power, it’s protection as a shield
from people as the pick pocket, it’s magic would wield.
A warning to all thieves and pick pockets out there
should you steal from that Old lady, I offer, beware
you may end up as a little mouse squeaking and afraid.
The curse will lift eventually, but for you ‘twould feel an age..
LadyP © 2011
Posted in About Life..., Advice, Entertainment, Fantasy, Life and Fear, Magic & Mystery, Nightmares, Poem, Poetry, Realisation, trickery
Tagged advice, Barriers, Choices, deceit, Enchantment, Fear, Greed, Imagination, Justice, Magic, Morality, Poem, Poetry, Taking Chances, Witchcraft
Is there no limit to what you’ll do?
Is there no morality at all to be found?
Is your decision Conservative Blue,
you’ll sell whatever to raise a quick pound
Last time Maggie Thatcher sold all she could
the Utilities went, and she saw it was good,
She sold out the miners, small business’s too
but what the heck, that’s not important to you.
The Fat Cat’s of Business are in total control
they keep to the shadows, the Party Bankroll
they care not for who will be drowned in the mire
as the cuts are forced through, put all to the fire.
“Sell off the country, sell Greenbelt land”
sell anything profitable for those in command
NO worries of the poor and forget the old
change the NHS, leave them out in the cold..
Sell off our Forests …to Private Concerns too
restrictions to us, we won’t walk free as we do,
no Country hikes, they’ve worked with such guile
give them an inch and they’ll take the whole mile.
When will we learn, Politicians lack souls?
they do things for profit and personal goals
they’ll strip us bare to keep the country afloat,
when we finally sink, they’ll have their own boat.
LadyP © 2011
This Wednesday there is a crunch vote in Parliament. MPs will vote on a motion demanding a rethink of plans to sell our national forests.
If enough of us contact our MPs now, we’ve got a real chance of winning this vote! So let’s make sure MPs are getting thousands of messages with one very clear request: vote to save our forests this Wednesday.
It’s quick and easy to email your MP, click here to send them a message:
Posted in About Life..., Hope, Humanity, Justice, Life and Fear, Poetry, Politicians, Politics, Power, trickery
Tagged Greed, lies, Life, Poetry, Politicians, Politics, Power