Coming to you from somewhere in England.
A long overdue summer’s acumen in.
I plan to retire.
The portrait of a Spitfire.
It hangs heavy as a symbol of hope.
I have sullied the bonds of Earth.
Ruthlessly measured my worth.
And now the scales are broke.• More
I hope, I love,
Somewhere in England.
But love and hope,
Sometimes are not enough.
I’ll have to think hard.
I’ll have to think slow.
Cuts make a flag,
We share a home.
I will search the unseen places,
The Retreat of Priestesses.
Come inside the Radio Room.
Quiet acceptance in the provinces.
In every shed that dreams taller than the Spires.
A love for the Shires.
Is no mean thing.
I hope, I love,
Somewhere in England.
But Love and hope,
Sometimes are not enough.
Crop Circles, Cathedrals both need the grain.