Petes Poetry
Nobody's Prince
The seclusion and secrecy of the past.
Different hells, different spells cast.
And which witch should I fall for her magic.
The winding roads, leading to disappointments, cold and tragic.
And death do me part, in this life of wizards and demi-gods.
for free flowing freedom, yet no path left untrod.
So walk with me, talk with me, weave me with your spindle.
For riches once held high, worth nothing, or left to dwindle.
But gold, gold, gold, how I dream of the mother load.
To have my castle, to have my princess, yet no lady wants to kiss this cane toad.
Peter Riddoch.
Different hells, different spells cast.
And which witch should I fall for her magic.
The winding roads, leading to disappointments, cold and tragic.
And death do me part, in this life of wizards and demi-gods.
for free flowing freedom, yet no path left untrod.
So walk with me, talk with me, weave me with your spindle.
For riches once held high, worth nothing, or left to dwindle.
But gold, gold, gold, how I dream of the mother load.
To have my castle, to have my princess, yet no lady wants to kiss this cane toad.
Peter Riddoch.