If one of you should fall from common grace And down the light-fire river plummet free The other should not hide their dismayed face Against the knotted branches of the tree

Please excuse the strange rhythm, this is actually a song I wrote, so it doesn't read well as a poem.

I warm my bare feet on the dash board, sitting in the boyish manner that makes you laugh, as we drive up Avondale Road.

The story of how music and a boy ran off into the world and made it together .

The definition of music is a gift for us all . Be it in the listening or composing .

I am a pillock , thought the haddock – and would have said so, if fish could speak. I am the biggest pillock on Earth! And indeed he was.

Phew! I'm off too flip an egg or two ;) NOT FOR KIDS OR THOSE OF PRUDISH DISPOSITION!