The wind is blowing the sands of time

Down the beach of destiny

As grains grind and push

To board the boat bound for


Story, sure, stories

Under starry, stormy skies on the shore

Wishing waves washing

Up and down

And up and down

Would miss you, twist you

But not pull you under

Plunged, pedalling into

The open ocean of Oh

Of open-ended questions

Quiet mumbled answers

Such are promises

Meanwhile the gulls of fate

Circulate, sky larking

Spinning, wheeling, squawking

Spying out for some poor bastard’s

Chips to steal 

And steal away bills full and salty

As hands run through hair

Empty from poker chips pouring out

Raked from the gambling tables of life

And cast out amongst the shell’s and shushes of this

Stumbling, storming beach

Blowing winds of bite and brimstone

Billowing the grey blue sea
Slippery rocks beneath your feet

Slide and slick you seawards

Raging, roaring waves run

Break, and run again

As the tide turns you know they are coming for you

Skywards seen and psalms said

Make no difference

Buried alive beneath the sands of time
Let’s just hope someone can turn it into a castle
Sloth out. 


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