Needles could mend love and threads could sew through forlorn veins and the hearts could only beat again with the strength of several oxen in a world where one is for them all or all are for themselves,
To the one who broke it and didn’t give me the strings to mend it with,
To my dear long lost heartbreaker, the cocks are coming home to roost, and the golden goose have finally found their golden eggs, the fishermen are ready to cast their nets once again yester catch was nil.
Reality checks and the queen is gone only one pawn to go,
Better it had been a fool’s mate.
Then the ref could have blown the whistle and quits the players could have called it ready for yet another match
A rematch in football parlance
How my wishes could come through
And the rematch you gave me to prove my new skills
Love, they say, is a choice
A rematch on home ground or an away match.
The gongs have gone you are no more,
Quick hands have snatched you away from me
“Anybody who is objecting as to why….” The pastor’s drooling baritone still rings in my mind long after I’m out of the church
Ring ring oh sweet melodies of the gongs for who knows
Tomorrow you might be ringing for me.