Friday, February 18, 2011

Branigan's Lass

 Young Branigan's lass
Had a heart for the chasing,
Laughing her way through
The men of the town.
A glance from her eyes
Sent every pulse racing,
She kept standing them up
And then knocking them down.

A beautiful temptress
A siren among them,
Though seeing the danger
They couldn't resist.
But she was a lass
With insatiable hunger,
So the wealthiest men
Were the top of her list.

Through turbulent nights
Her suitors were dreaming,
Of moments of conquest
When she would succumb.
For not one of them yet
Had tasted the sweetness,
Of her in compliance
As the race had been won.

Nobody counted the hearts
That were broken,
No measure was taken
Of those she deceived.
Now back in her stable
The lady is sleeping,
The bookmakers smile
The punters are grieved.

Copyright©Alan Gilbert 2011.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

The way of Things......... ... Some thoughts about loss.

I am not gone
Please never think me so,
The world must turn
Tides ebb, and spirits grow.
Our souls evolve
As everything must do,
Though bodies fade
My essence stays with you.

It's natures way
That everything must change,
All bodies grow
Then fall to rearrange.
But nothings lost
Just takes a different form,
Our souls remain
Complete as when we're born.

Some summer days
You'll feel me close at hand,
The softest breeze
That whispers in the sand.
A gentle touch
Much lighter than a kiss,
And you may know
That life is more than this.

So talk to me
And wait for my reply,
For every soul
Was given wings to fly.
And I will answer
Everything you say,
I won't forsake you
For a singe day.

copyright Alan Gilbert 2011.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Chasing Something

Those were the days
Do you recall,
When we were young
And dad's were tall.
The sunny days
Would come and go,
Now looking back
I miss them so.

The years they flew
So fast it seems,
We stretched our arms
To catch our dreams.
Now here I stand
And wonder why,
I chased a dream
That made me cry.

Yet still I know
That such is fate,
Don't end the show
It's note too late.
There still is time
For one more dream,
An open door
A loving theme.

Copyright©Alan Gilbert 2011.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

The Death of Blixton

 Do you see along the headlands
Where the cliff has crumbled down,
Once a host of people lived there
In a thriving market town.
Just some ordinary people
Each the same as you and me,
Yet they all were killed at midnight
In October sixty three.

Records say the day was placid
Autumn sunshine filled the sky,
Children played along the headlands
Chasing carts that trundled by.
The Market place was all a bustle
Flags and bunting everywhere,
The schoolgirls choir was at practice
Wild flowers in their hair.

All the weeks of work were over
Founders day was dawning soon,
Every street rang out with laughter
Well into that afternoon.
All the people were elated
Never stopped to question why,
The sun was lost, completely hidden
By the blackness of the sky.

By six o-clock the rain was falling
Sheets of lightning lit the sky,
Winds were tearing at the shutters
Howling like a banshee cry.
Seas were raging like a tempest
Waves like mountains hit the shore,
By ten o-clock the folk were frightened
Never seen the like before.

At the cliffs the waves were crashing
Each one like a hammer blow.
Sending chunks of solid rock face
Falling to the sea below.
Out at sea a vessel floundered
Thrown like driftwood to the shore,
Men while fighting for existence
Prayers for mercy did implore.

The captain was a man of iron
Death had stalked him many times,
Now he knew he'd lose the battle
So terrible the ship inclines.
Then a roar that drowned the thunder
Shock waves brought him to his knee,
As he watched transfixed in horror
Blossom town fell into the sea.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Aeonian Legends: Immortal Bloodlines

Part One of my new graphic novel Aeonian Legends: Immortal Bloodlines is out. Check it out on my website at

Monday, January 3, 2011

Sorry for my absence, fellow Slaves (and Mistresses). For the beginning of the new year, I thought I'd give you something a little different to my usual fayre to peruse..........

                             ADAM FIVE.      
                                                Copyright Bryce Main  2011

When Adam Five awoke, it caused one helluva hoohah! They just weren’t expecting him to blink into existence as early as he did. Not that they minded. Far from it. If they hadn’t been running around like headless chickens they would have been overjoyed. Might even have celebrated a bit.
But then, that might have given Adam the wrong impression. Started him off on the wrong foot, so to speak. Not that he had a right foot, or any feet at all. Or, as far as they knew, any means to form an impression in the first place.
I suppose you could say that at that stage of his development, he didn’t have much use for appendages of any sort. No legs or arms or even the obligatory hands or grasping mechanisms. Adam Five didn’t need any of that. Well…not then, anyway.
Of course they were sure where his various ‘bits’ went. Or at least as sure as they could be, given the large passage of time involved.
For now, it was enough that he was awake.  Part of him, anyway.
So they fussed, in the way that mothers have always fussed over their newborn children. The fact that, in the strictly technical and biological sense they were a damned long way from being mothers of any description, didn’t seem to bother them in the slightest.
What bothered them was the expression on Adam’s face.
Having long since discarded facial expressions as a visual form of communication, they were taken aback, and a little unsure of its meaning.
“Is this how he should be? Or is he defective?” said the smallest of them. A male by design and, compared to the rest, not very bright.
Another, a female and obviously the small male’s superior in just about every way, paused as if considering something, and said, “According to all the available data, this is simply a muscular constriction developed to accentuate a state of mild confusion.”
The small male, eager to bond with the others in a way that, under normal circumstances, was simply not tolerated or even worse, ignored, replied, “Does it have a name, this constriction thing?”
“A frown,” said the female. “It’s called a frown.”
“And is it…” he continued, only to be cut off mid-sentence.
“Kindly cease irrelevant communication, please,” said the largest of those present, a non-specifically-sexed regulator about twice the size of everyone else put together. “Please remember why we are here.”

Sunday, January 2, 2011


My head was filled with thoughts of you today.
Creating your memory in a thousand different ways.
The ease with which you'd make me laugh.
Those things you'd do that made me gasp.
And then I wondered... where have you gone?

Not long ago you dangled my heart on a string.
Filled me with happiness, caused me to sing.
My world seems a little bit broken now.
I'd paste it together if I only knew how.
Oh, how I wish I knew... why have you gone?

So empty and longing my soul has become.
You were my morning, I'm blocking the sun.
Wearing a mask of indifference, I hide.
Protecting myself, retaining my pride.
Hate to admit... It hurts me... now that you're gone.

Eventually all of this pain will abide.
My simple request, to once again fly.
Till love and words once again bring back.
Only one thing that would be my torture to lack.
The one simple dream that we both do share.
That one little thing that made me originally care.   
And I know that we both are completely aware.
Even though it seems so real to me now... you're not gone.


Friday, December 24, 2010

CoCo Saves the Winter Snow

Written by Tami Snow

Once upon a Christmas Eve, not so long ago,
Jack Frost flew swiftly through the air, casting ice upon the world below.
When out of a tiny window blew, a fragrance oh so sweet,
he decided to have a look, and floated down to take a peek.

Through the crackled window pane, Jack opened it up wide;
Old Man Winter took a breath, the air it whirled inside.
As the bitter chill flurried in, a couple snuggled up,
and left upon the table there a steaming cocoa cup.

From winter’s freezing exhale, the magic twirled about,
around and over the whipped creamy top, a tiny Fairy then flew out.
She said, “Hi!  My name is CoCo.  How are you this fine day?”
Jack Frost, he blushed a scarlet red and invited her to play.

His hand she grabbed in hers real hard, she giggled and he laughed,
and then the two, hand-in-hand sprang through the glacial draft.
Up, up, and away they climbed within the blustery breeze,
until deciding to take a rest on the branch of an old pine tree.

And as they looked out at the world, and the dried brown earth below,
she turned her head and then she asked, “Hey Jack, where is the snow?”
He then looked out to follow her gaze, with a deep and pain-filled sigh,
Jack bowed his head into his hands and then began to cry.

“Winter Snow was kidnapped for a selfish reason;
the Arctic King wanted her this shivering-cold Holiday Season.”
“We will save her,” CoCo cried, her voice topped with glee.
“I know the way,” said Jack, “Come on, and follow me.”

Over Candy Cane fields, sugar hills, and rolling cookie dough,
they were off on their quest to find Winter Snow.
To the Arctic the two must fly, as swiftly as they can,
“Wait!” said Jack to CoCo. “We must have a plan.”

“On tip-toe we’ll go into his cave, and slowly we will creep.
We’ll give him magic Gum Drops so he will fall asleep.”
Tip-toe they did, their voices near a whisper,
and in the corner there she sat, Winter Snow, all a-glister.

“You found me!” she beamed.  Her voice was all bubbles.
“Thank you for going through all of that trouble.”
 At them he came, the Arctic King all a-fluster,
and they ran and they hid with what strength they could muster.

“Where did you go?” the frosty King boomed.
There seemed no way out.  The friend’s hearts filled with gloom.
“Don’t worry,” said CoCo.  “This all will be simple.”
Then she winked and she smiled, and on her cheek was a dimple.

She flitted from hiding, chocolate eyes all a-glowing.
“Excuse me, your Highness, but winter’s not the same without snowing.”
His eyes were ablaze with an anger so dire,
they swirled and they flamed, and they churned with orange fire.

In that very moment, CoCo had a bright thought,
rushed up to the King, fear-filled she was not.
Wrapping her tiny arms around him so tight,
a warm hug she gave to him.  The action seemed right.

He coughed and he sputtered, and his face was amazed.
In fact, he looked shocked, and completely dazed.
“Why did you do that?” he asked with confusion.
“Forgive us, your Highness, for this unwelcome intrusion.”

“We mean you no ill-will,” she said with a bow,
“but it’s very important Winter Snow come with us now.”
He thought for a second, his forehead crunched up wrinkly,
then looked down at CoCo, in his eyes a-bright twinkling.

“No one on earth has ever shown me such kindness.
You are a very brave soul,” said to CoCo his Highness.
They zoomed from the deep Arctic realm in a hurry.
Dancing pirouettes in the air, Winter Snow blew her flurries. 

So when it is snowing below from above,
let your heart sing, be happy, and remember – give love.
The moral of this story, as you all should know,
is that holidays just aren’t the same without Winter Snow

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Goodbye Valparaiso.

We were four weeks on our way from Valparaiso.
Sailing home across Atlantic blue.
It’s been three years since I kissed you by the harbor,
                Long time away
                But every day
                I thought of you.

That night I woke to hear the wind was howling,
The sea arose with fury in her eye.
Every watch was called on deck to fix the storm sails.
                And we knew
                Err night was through,
                Some men would die.

We sailed for two weeks more without adventure.
Then as the sun was rising from the sea.
A shout of “Ship ahoy”, came from the rigging.
                We raised a cheer
                To hide our fear,
                Of piracy.

We stood beside our guns, it seemed an hour.
We watched the corsair drawing ever near.
The skull and crossbones flying from his mainmast.
                Nothing was said
                By living dead,
                Our time was here.

We raced toward them, both bow chasers  blazing.
A lucky chain shot brought their mainsail down.
Then we turned to port, and sunk them with a broadside.
                Nothing to do
                By us spared few,
                But watch them drown.                          

At last we sailed into the English channel.
We docked at Plymouth on a sunny day.
I promised when I saw you on the quayside.
                Now I’m back home
                No more I’ll roam,
                With you I stay.

Copyright ©Alan Gilbert.  2009