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The Agricultural Engineer

I have a story in an old shoe box
and I leave it to spin out
all the time

A heart ache framed in that trusty old-schooled ink and it bleeds
like a bruise
on tattooed thighs

I’m stood with a blush of pink insincerity
and i find that I cannot tell a lie

You see, like a bird
like a falcon way up high
and you breathe like a new born
swimming child

You teach
with the wisdom of an ancient rested soul
and I want to be near you all the time

There’s a key in the garden where you fall asleep at night
there’s a lock hidden there under
the chime

But the wind is howling haunted
and it leaves you feeling blind
and you can’t
remember how to tell the time

It’s written in the kitchen, right there underneath the clock
There’s a sink full of truths I can’t deny

But you walk through the hall in those dirty, old work boots
leaving marks on my floor and on my life

A sidewards smile holds a cigarette, alight

The dirty, honest dishes
left behind

Guitar Tuition

To the Frolicking Folk!

Just wanted to give anyone who might be trying to teach themselves to play the guitar, the opportunity of some free guidance.

I’m involved in something called The National Guitar Academy. I’m not pitching anything here in the hope of making money – I won’t make a penny. It’s just something I’m passionate about and love that there is so much free (decent,helpful) content, encouraging people to play.

I won’t bang on about it too much…but there are links below, if you are wanting to take up learning or need a bit of help. 

I’m currently running the FB page, so I can be found over there – but there is no link between NGA and G&T, so I’d be grateful if both can be kept seperate.

Anyhoo…it’s founded by a wonderful teacher and I really rate his methods. That’s all I got.

Maybe I’ll see your face on the page, if not I’ll also be knocking about here. (Home is where the heart is, and all that)

Ta’ra

G&T 

https://www.facebook.com/nationalguitaracademy/
www.nationalguitaracademy.com

Dream

I had a pretty vivid dream last night and it went a lot like this…

I walked into my kitchen, pretty messy as usual but that was not the issue. The real issue was as I opened the fridge door and was greeted to nothing but a few carrots and half an onion.

I shut the door, wondering why I kept half an onion and why I still let it live there, in its current state.

Jump cut – suddenly, I’m at the Asda. Specifically, I’m just reaching the frozen food aisle. As I approach the freezers ahead, I see a man looking into the lower shelves. It’s Paul McCartney.

I was like, ‘Wow, you’re Paul McCartney.’ And he continued to look at the frozen food. ‘What you doing in the Asda, Paul?’ He explained he was checking if Linda’s range was still stocked. I nodded as if that was completely understandable.

So I sort of watched him for a few seconds, scrutinising what was for sale. All of a sudden I found myself saying , ‘Paul, I hate to do this – I’d rather ask you something else but if I do, nobody will believe it. Not without a photo.’

He smiled and put his arm around me whilst I took a photo of us, in front of a load of frozen food. ‘I wish I had my guitar with me, you could’ve signed it.’

Jump cut again – Me and Paul McCartney were sat in my dining room and I was playing my newly signed guitar whilst he ate one of the scones from the table. He was eating it like a bit of a pig and had cream around his mouth.

Then I woke up.

Bit weird…but non too unpleasant.

Love, Bottled

  
Do you dance through the evening 

with a beauty in your arms?

Perhaps those arms are feeling 

that bit colder

I remember all those nights – the wine

glass after glass and all that

giggling

as we strolled way past tipsy

And I still visit tipsy more than

now and then

And I find I still have myself 

a grand, old time

But it is only when I wander way down 

past that post, that I find you again

As I curl up on that same old sofa 

we so often did frequent

And there are moments that I meet you

through my own drunken demise

Other times, I hear you and your 

northern beats

Whispering real warmth – 

blankets 

safely wrapped up in the dark

Tranquility. Contentment at its best

But when I wake and feel the sun

beating down on my hungover, bee stung 

eyes and remember

how you are somewhere now

Resting, without me

The feeling of the night before 

befits the feeling of right here

Without you 

Still in Love with the musings of Frank Turner

Enjoy!

Some Music For Your Sunday

I am in love with this man. There is nothing more to say.

This Will Make You Fall In Love

I was given this, oh…some time ago now. And for multiple reasons, it’s remained very special to me.
I invite you to share my love of James Yorkston and this piece of, well…beauty. You’ll see what I mean within seconds of it beginning to play.
So wonderful. So perfectly aligned with the images that you will see.
Fall in love. Happy Sunday, from G&T.