bichoose (bichoose) wrote,

Friday 2nd February 2007.

The leather casing was removed,colours unfurled a cry went up the Forlorn Hope Regiment moved off down the valley into a new day,the nights demons could be seen still in the distance last nights dreams danced on the leaves leaving targets to mutter over in the cold fields from purple past.I shook my head as the front rank shuffled to a halt,knowing what was coming i prepared myself for the call, to arms,to arms,we knelt pulled up the muskets and fired the screams from the antic playing demons who's sugar sucked tongues drove the second rank to fire also and so the evening demons fled wilting under the hammer sounds from flying lead.As the fog of powder cleared i thought what if they never went,never danced away but remained in the broad light of the day would all hope then vanish.Would the sugar crystallize into spider webs and thus we be drowned in our own dreams and why have i said our, surely it can only be me as i stride forward in this regiment of my own making.

Could the day then possibly begin, what indeed lies beyond the nights valley...i saw Mrs OZ..this morning pruning the thicket surrounding her field her bust pushed out heavily against the cotton i dwell for a few seconds on what might have been had the tram tracks not been full of leaves,she did look, but not even a flicker nor a wave as the tyre's bounced past her.
Enough of pondering in the murky depths found in lust, for the strange vision in the sky has awoke me. Could this be the sun for once joined by the brightest of blue skies,i left Mrs OZ to tend her land and pushed forward into the day i had to visit the magic city once more, i pushed past the big bang and thought of someone close i sighed,the symbol in rusty iron stands proud i have begun to luv each spike perhaps i think each spike is a dribble-cock of hope and perhaps this journey today marks the beginning of crawling out from beneath the leaf mold with a whisper spring is on it's way...yippie....

  • Tuesday 24th May 2022.

    Myself and these have this evening arrived back in Greater Manchester after chasing Toad from Toad Hall around the great open road across parts of…

  • Thursday 12th May 2022.

    I think i need to poke my head out of the front door smell the coffee, hold my hand out to feel as if it is raining them pull on my busted stockings…

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    Today i have started my second week without a reminder to pull on my blue uniform...i do not miss it..or am i lying to myself, perhaps... i do not…

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