When Pigs Fly

The long hard road began with a countdown,
seeds of high hopes planted far underground.
Sugar cubes at the top of the stairs,
aroma of smoke, incense and longhairs.
Crawling over walls, ceiling and floor,
freaks, bubbles, and lights.....UFO lore.
Give 'em a break, and roll another one,
it only tasted right, on a currant bun.
Walked out on limbs incredibly dangerous,
skated on thin ice, so treacherous,
nearly fell, but was saved by confidence
beamed at them, from the audience.
Sorry Mr. Layne, but it would take two to know,
iron-clad contracts could come and go.
Rainbows and rockets over London town
became heralds, of your own underground.
Awake, fell into a fourteen hour dream,
did you know dawn would be so supreme?
Daffodils and admirals were destined to fall,
banished forever, from the queen's hall.
Hope-filled pilgrims would journey to far shores,
and return, with shipwrecked hearts, and more.
Storm signal flag, not raised in time,
someone unnoticed, had pulled the blinds.
Painted into a box, apples and oranges can lie,
a voice within....just point me to the sky.
Small taste of success was achieved, indeed,
but would sink like a stone, and then bleed.
Yet fate saw the future, it did beguile,
an ace up the sleeve, with a joker wild.
Learned the numbers, prophecies met,
crazy man chuckled, have you got it yet?
Mad as the Hatter, drank tea from a saucer,
secrets would go with him, forever and ever.
Runway was clear, controls set at the max,
voices whispered, be careful with that axe.
Led to the mountain that had to be climbed,
more relics were destined, to be left behind.
Obscured by clouds, it was difficult to have seen,
what the dark side, could have possibly been.
The pinnacle was reached in short, sharp, shocks,
littered with money, madness and pyramidal rocks.
Ravings and droolings from a diamond became,
dark tribute, to a bloodless machine.
Why bother? You've heard it once already,
said the madcap, great, bald, and sweaty.
The gates were locked, the piper gone,
night forever, there would be no dawn.
Souls did sigh, we wish you were here,
which one's Pink, he's here, I swear.
Could not be found, he was loose, you see,
the pig that flew, had escaped from Battersea.
Yet freedom lasted only long enough to sigh,
walls loomed, of cardboard, and up to the sky.
Wars, and rumors of such, rumbled all 'round,
along the wall, threatening to tumble it down.
Cracks made wider, as generals decided,
the wall, money, and hearts, overrided.
With one brick short of a full load,
final cuts were deep, and left one cold.
No bridge could be built, to reach the other side,
the waters too troubled, vain dreams had died.
There was no way out of there, it appeared,
mind your throats, the hangman sneered.
An about face ordered to close the ranks,
kept the way open, and protected flanks.
Flying pigs again, had broken free,
but not without paying a penalty.
Upon wings clipped, they soared into space,
help from above was in the right place.
The journey ongoing, was filled with wonder,
the world then heard delicate sounds of thunder.
Over oceans and forests it came rolling,
put us on notice, to heed the future tolling.
As love fled, and tomorrow's fell apart,
highways were scattered with broken hearts.
Cold rain made one comfortably numb,
dead to the pain, forever, for some.
But the course was charted in Heaven's halls,
a destiny to live, win, lose, or draw.
Along the long way, costs were counted,
doubts and tears battled, and surmounted.
The years too, have been blessed with plenty,
for already, the moon has passed twenty.
Spirit persecuted, paralyzed for years,
could at last, be rid of its' fears.
No longer marooned upon seas of hate,
was touched gently, by the hand of fate.
The bell of freedom has rung loud and clear,
ringing of a different one, now draws us near.
With not a lot to prove anymore,
voices are pure, and souls can soar.
Songs reach angel's ears, in the night,
and draws them near, in pulses of light.
Light of love, in the mirrors we glimpsed,
our eyes can see, in a total eclipse.
Together we stand, but divided we fall,
still need help, to breach that last wall.
Before one can join that great gig in the sky,
lessons remain, in learning how to fly.
So speak to me, and teach us to breathe,
Heaven's glory, will you surely receive.
The gift to us has been the words of your heart,
God and Heaven, you've made us a part.
Of the pure soul, that we love and share,
hearts beat as one, and we breathe the same air.
The journey is not over, the song must not die.
while spirits will yearn, and pigs can still fly.

Sandy
Copyright 1995 S.L.Benson