Biography of Jazzy Davies
Destined to discover a new planet and with it a new form of life.
Jazzy Davies's Works:
The life and times of Albert, inventor extraordinaire
Jazzy Davies Poems
I see the road, out there in front twisting and snaking out of sight I hear the distant footsteps, smell spring on the air meandering forward, friends join with me
The Clock Tower
We decided long ago, when you were free and had more time, we'd kick up our heels
Who are we? in this world, so complex What gives us the right? To presume, to judge, to destroy Who made you King?
There's not enough time in this lifetime for us no time for talk no time for sleep The need inside me is an ache
The Bog At Faerie Glen
The twinklin and stinklin of the bog at Faerie Glen lured many a trav'ller, every now and then. Shuddering sands 'neath weary feet suckin' and slurpin', there's no retreat.
Moments Of Joy
When we were young simple things, an unexpected trip to the fair Grandparents visiting..what did you bring us?
Its abode was the linen cupboard, in the corner of our room A lesser known creature, nocturnal and vile
With our words we bridge the miles are drawn together to share the smiles as we explore this new addiction we've found
Dance Of The Night.
Twilight stains the mountain tops, melting sun on yonder, drops. Violet clouds turn mauve, then puce, shadows fall from silver spruce.
You, my friend, my soul mate complement me so truly. I believe God did create you, for me, so purely.
Tribute To A Badminton Demon
What a void you've left in my life do you know how much you're missed? how many people you affected throughout your life? I look at your picture every day, it still hurts
Kaleidoscopes of sharded lunacy, trickling explosively from a knife tip. Curling scents whispering from nowhere, reality lapsing, an upside down flip
My thoughts turn to you tonight as I lie in this sleepless void Harvest moon mocking me through the glass Longing chokes my heart
Symphony Of Lust
Melting amber, as the sun sets in your eyes, pupils dilate into discs of black velvet. Heart beat increases, lips part and blush, liquid lightning filling the blood.
The Bog At Faerie Glen
The twinklin and stinklin of the bog at Faerie Glen
lured many a trav'ller, every now and then.
Shuddering sands 'neath weary feet
suckin' and slurpin', there's no retreat.
Tis no sirens work, just folklore and myth
the promise of riches, come, come, forthwith.
Dumply and festering, rank in its lair
gnarled, twisted mangroves whisper...beware