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If I could place all life's Winter Sorrows,
As far away from my tomorrows,
To see a snowflake's path that follows,
Beyond the melting point of time,

I'd construct a cave of childish wonder,
And place it safe from Life's cruel thunder,
For Stormy weather has no place among the,
World of make-believe & rhyme,

The fondest memories of yester-year,
Comfort me with their festive cheer,
Suddenly their faces magically appear,
As my mind recounts their fate,

Devilish grins & innocent glances,
Raiding the fridge & taking chances,
Being forced to dance with drunken Aunties,
And this Steve McQueen still hasn't managed to escape,

I wish to relive those precious moments,
Overseas phone-calls sounding Golden,
Cheating at monopoly & getting told off,
Even though the banker always smiles,

There's much to be said of December's tonic,
As we wind down the old year's promise,
Beyond the rush of midnight shoppers,
We'll find a place where the stillness lies,

For survival's grace is but for the few,
And not all dreams, will they come true,
Tinsel-towns have darker hues,
So our greatest gift is life,

If I could replace all my Winter Sorrows,
I'd float in the sun-rays of tomorrow,
For a snowflake's path is merely borrowed,
Its path is yet to be defined.

(c) Mr Gee

Our Music

If our music be just,
A combination of notes,
Painstakingly chosen,
To emotionally evoke,

Can our values be kind
Of an arrangement of thoughts,
Orchestrated into laws,
Pipes of Peace, Drums of War,

So to whose tune shall we dance?
Shall we make love & romance?
Do our lives compose melodies?
Or ride the rhythms of chance?

But what if the quiet voice is too loud?
Does it poison the sound?

The discord caused by this chord,
Amplifies the silence of frowns,

So pity the song that鈥檚 unsung,
Too scared to venture past the lungs,
Whose acoustics know no audience,
Whose plectrum knows no strum,

Pity the voice that鈥檚 unheard,
An eternal stranger to the world,
Forever held back by pleasant pauses,
Who act as a jailer to its words,

Pity the thought never travelled,
Or met with ridicule & challenge,
Embracing panoramic camera lenses,
To capture views from different angles,

Pity the symphony unwritten,
Never to be relished by the living,
The bridges never built,
The olive branches never given,

So yes, our music may be just,
A simple combination of notes,
It's also a simple combination of fear,
A simple combination of hope.聽聽

漏 Mr Gee

Anton du Beke, Suzy Klein, Stephanie Hirst, Glyn Johns, Mr. Gee, Aasmah Mir