Tia Attwood Poems

Our journey travelled now divides
A love of which been pushed aside
With no one standing, by each side
Our journey travelled now divides
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How money buys our tortured soul,
The devils path is paved in gold.
In times of strife we lose control
How money buys our tortured soul.
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Ascending
golden lashes
curl over dawn's horizons
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My Island home
Of sun-kissed pewter
Hill-sides
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My land so rich of history
with dreamtime legends which flow free,
in hearts and mind, of those like me
which; to the vast, still mystery
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As pearls of Winter weep from soulful skies
across the swirling seasons of ones life
of constant poignant heartache caused through lies
as pearls of Winter weep from soulful skies.
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The sound of Summer's sweetest fife
as dawn's soft golden lashes rise
like Heaven's gate; at afterlife
the sound of Summer's sweetest fife
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Do not weep as winter settles
'long the rose buds we once sowed
which; once, prospered in the spring time
that became a wilted rose
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Upon a checked landscape proudly stand
The king; his nights with horse and sward, they stance
are ready to invade the foreign land
Whilst sillhoette in pweter, sternly prance.
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The Winter claims the souls of man
across the far off distant land,
when birds of man begin to fan
The winter claims the souls of man.
...