The Spoonbill Generator

Unseen Behind Ourselves Again

Away on the heather'd down [Grayman]

The camomile is blooming [dkb]

The peasant dons his sceptred crown [Apsley]

Unaware the bill is spooning [Hamish]

Who sings for love, who sings for gold? [P]

All is black and strewn with mould... [Apsley]

Away on the wind-blown moor [P]

The kestrel ranges freely [Grayman]

The pheasant is his speckled lure [Hamish]

To trap him at a 'feelie' [Apsley]

Who cares for love, who cares for joy? [TG]

All that is, time will destroy... [P]

Away upon the glistening sand [TG]

Where ryegrass is the master [Grayman]

'Tis pleasant to have freckled hands [Hamish]

To make the time go faster: [Apsley]

Who blames the heavens, who the Gods? [Roland]

All's buried now under the sods [Hamish]

Away in darkest Donegal [Apsley]

The septic tanks are shining [Hamish]

An ecosystem doomed withal [Grayman]

And undermined by mining [Hamish]

The fairy folk are heard to weep [Grayman]

- All of them not shearing sheep... [Hamish]

Away beyond the nearest moon [P]

The nebulae are waiting [Hamish]

The peasant with his large bassoon [P]

Remains still, hibernating, [Hamish]

For beavers breakfast on his toes [Apsley]

While lobsters wait in serried rows [TG]

Awayday ticket in his hand [Hamish]

He waves to those who wait beside [Apsley]

The pheasant at the railway tracks [Hamish]

And can't afford the ride [Grayman]

Who cleans the rails? Who trains the trains? [Hamish]

In some dark place, the Seer explains: [Apsley]

"Away in Never-Never Land [Hamish]

The young grow old, the old unwind" [Apsley]

But still spoonbill pile up behind [Anon.]

The door, but never mind - [Grayman]

Thus is the wisdom of the East [Apsley]

Explained to those who want it least [Hamish]

Contributors: Grayman, dkb, Apsley, Hamish, P, TG, Roland, Anon..
Poem finished: 23rd June 2000.