33 Miners......the Happy Fairy Tale End

Doc, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, Sneezy and Bashful,
Seven miners all so so sad adversity has held its grip,

Nasty Queens poison apple whose life of Snow White tries to null,
But look the Prince is here to kiss, and in the bud this deed to nip.

The minors so so happy, hugging and smiling a fairy tale end,
Yes a fairy tale indeed a message to the world to send, but

Look! A real life story has unfolded before our very eyes,
Deep underground thirty three Chilean miners entombed below,
The world takes notice, mankind prays no one dies.
Two long months pass then God s help he doth sow,

With comrade’s ingenuity of man a capsule is born,
Down a sunken shaft it sinks to the men it will save,
The Lord delivers them to family from whom they’ve been torn,
One by one they step out so strong and so so bloody brave,

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poem by Ken e Hall
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Natures Call Save The Forest Of The Night

Dimmed to infiltrate the forest of the night
The single lamp post of the moon,
Shines her recycled yesterday’s sunshine,
The leaves move in harmony rustling the tune
With the floor moving with life with extreme evening sight,
The staccato’s beat sets the rhythm.
Nothing escapes the damp drapes of the silent breeze,
All creatures are hungry it’s time to forage,
Nature’s rule every living thing knows eat or be eaten.
The snake consumes the stolen egg,
Bird eats the worm
Spider mummifies the fly,
The leopard dines on the weak.
The trees feel immune until
Elephant hunger‘s early morning grasp strips the tree
The flesh eating cat slumbers
Dreaming of his lions share,
The bird with a broken wing wears a coat of ants,
Life goes on as dawn approaches as
The dung beetle is happy for his larvae’s lunch,

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poem by Ken e Hall
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Every Woman Wants To Dance

Every woman wants to dance
Every woman wants the chance.

Behind closed doors
All the fiery sexy sways,
Even thru her kitchen days,
She’ll use her pegs as castanets
As soggy towels her hands do wets.
Over fence, neighbours know they have seen,
The local show of the dancing queen,
Radio’s Rolling Stones belt out the action to
‘I can’t get no satisfaction’,
A million hips gyrate on the table tops
As they swing and hug the upturned mops.

Every woman wants to dance
Every woman wants the chance.

In the shops in the office the toes do tap,

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poem by Ken e Hall
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The Bespoke Suit

That bespoke suit it looked grand so beaut
It adorned this guy drinking alone at the bar,
Would he sell it, that smashing suit
Indeed if only, I'd feel like a rising star,

Such a fine cut of pure merino wool
With a blue hanky peeping from his top pocket.
I turned my head an' he was gone leaving my mind to mull,
I ran to the door his car took off like a rocket,

Looking at my poor excuse of a suit so so raggy,
A week fly's by bespoke in my dreams never ending,
Love will never come with my trousers so baggy.
I see a girl stroking that bespoke suit...dreams keep sending,

Well blow me down with a feather there he stands again at the bar,
'Hello there my names John I think your suit is so bespoke,
Would you sell it to me to shine my star, '
'Gimme' double what I paid then it's yours no joke'

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poem by Ken e Hall
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The Flamingo Parade

A million collect for this pink extravaganza
I have preened my virgin self
Again and again, I am in my prime
I am ready for the mating bonanza
Of the pink parade.
One thousand young heads raise high
The more I raise my head
The more pinkier I become,
The more suitors it will drum
Without the moon or roses.
The eyes must flash its signal of love
In this multitude of sameness,
Birds of a feather
We are the same but not the same,
Our call and aroma are our own.

This male stops me dead
Entwines his neck, mmmmmm
Then gives a peck, mmmmmm I’m struck
He smells so masculine, I flutter my eyes

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poem by Ken e Hall
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Winter's Snowstorm

Nature hires her white winter coats
To still trees starkly dressed
Motion to the scene as wildlife notes.
Snowflakes settle on a Robins head blessed.

He pouts his red chest, not to blush
Rabbit stops wiggles his nose whisking snow,
Fuelled by the icy breeze’s push,
A flash from his eye’s and off he goe’s,

Synchronous vibrations of Mother Nature gropes
unleashing the resonant howls as the driving winds,
Fuel a snowstorm down the mountain slopes,
‘Neath overhang rocks the wolf packs huddle begins.

Unseen the movement of time holds its breath
For bears the whole winter in slumber,
Oblivious to an icy freezing death
Kept alive by their hibernating Jumper,

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poem by Ken e Hall
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Sexy Tango in the Night

Flat damp alley with flickering neon tubes,
Entry by a door fashioned like a star,
The ice-buckets tinkle frozen cubes,
Ringlets of smoke curl in the café noir,

The cabaret begins.

The champagne bubbles blink the rhythm of the night,
Black net tango legs stand astride,
Alfonso’s hat tilts; patent shoes guide stilettos right,
Synchro bodies glide so seductive side by side.

As the night air sucks the music’s fashion,
Lola flirts a hint of “yes” to stir his passion,
He holds her high in light atop,
As the music ascends to a staccato stop.

The accordion screams
The well known beat,
Dancing flirting crossing the floor,

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poem by Ken e Hall
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A Childs Centre Of Spirituality.......

The seeds of dreamtime dwell in the centre of a child's spirituality,
Natural wisdom's mindful appreciation of the present moment
Presents to their logic, angels can sing and teddy bears can talk,
Mummy will never leave and Pinocchio can walk,
Pussycats won't scratch and doggy's tails are toys,
Dolly's are for little girls and bats are for boys.
This dream of life in this state of heaven
Will change their thinking when they are seven,
Their little wonder brain absorbs knowledge so fast
With millions of nerve cells forming to last,
Verbals torrent "What's this, what's that, why this, who's that",
With a language learnt in no time flat.
They enter the zone of thinking, logic and learning at school,
With God's wisdom love and spirit we hold as the rule.
The march of time takes away the cuddly lovely little child,
To behold teenagers, young invigorating meek and mild
The core of their being formed with parental guidance and love.
With an inner kindness and respect soul stamped from above
The seeds of spirituality have grown thru their veins,
Now the world is their oyster to take charge of the reigns.

poem by Ken e Hall
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Seashore Picnic

The picnic blanket spread down upon the ground
On a grassy verge high above the sand
All our toes wiggle so free, with sunshiny tea and cakes
Radio playing with the sound of an old jazz band
We don’t have socks and feel so free,
Sitting in the shade of a Norfolk pine tree
On a sun shiny day for sun shiny play.
The moon tide’s motion curls the waves so to greet the rocks,
A thousand droplets dance toward the sky
Ascending down as natures melodical cymbals break,
White frizzles, bubbles in the blue
Tiny sunshiny dots floating calmly on the sea
Simply turning on and off,
Just to make the twinkles twinkle
Just for you and me
On a sun shiny day for sun shiny play
Everyone stands shouts and points out to sea,
“We see! We see! The Whales, the Whales, ”
'We see! We see! Their whopping tails,
We all jump up for glee.

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poem by Ken e Hall
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This Is No Horror Fairy Tale Poem

This is no fairytale poem this is the reality
Of the twenty first century,
The era of religious political minds gone mad
Preying on the young manipulating robbing their souls
As,
Graveyard eyelids close and open over compassionless eyes,
The young female drone obsessed with promised martyrdom
Moves into the centre of the busy market place.
Her young slim body is now swollen to an obese size
With the aid of dynamite strapped to her body
Hidden under her dark clothing of lies,
Make no mistake here moves a killer
A mini 911 creature a black plague,
A killer of women and children all innocent souls
Where the Hell is the route of this insanity
Is it the Aztecs digging hearts out for the sun God?
The Romans digging roads in other people’s back yards?
Gengus Khan preaching his beheading technique?
Each side of the many faces of man
Pointing the trigger finger at each other,

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poem by Ken e Hall
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