Magnus I - Ice Cream Edition
Stealing Christmas with her marmalade bear
Eboneasor in that toy box Pandora
Her humble Hubble Conservatory for eating lollies
Scope to slide views into pools of swimming dori
With this soon to be obscene Queen of never ending stories
Blanket castles where her throne remains
Any dare enter her Grendel lair of despair
Pans panic room to noted misery
The diary of her life library
Words captioned to burning picture frames
Remove all hope of me ye’ who abandon me
Awarded best in show. The half dressed to depress
See her hold it together with a martini and cigarette
Easy Sunday morning eyes
Looking for the luckiest guy or Mike Patton lookalike
Just counting the same old crows
Home to pull down her frowning cocktail gown
Scratch away posters of Beverley Hills postcodes
Misplaced intent for lost jeans with pressed pills
Cats whisper who be this new shadow whisker
3am tall tales Ms Kitty with lost keys and garlic sauce pity
Dusting the mirror where she sees her roaring Aurora
Driving Deville’s dressed in your cabaret fantasy
Curiosity catness be the corners eye in her labyrinthine luxury
May her highness invite us to learn politeness
Her lavish crime to partake in midnight delights
Tasting platters of caviar to caveat her dark matters
Leaving me in gutters like poor Mr Butters
She just throws away her once favoured toys
Closing down the last lost home for broken boys
Deeds unbecoming of thee our Miss Mayhem Melody
Our Cinderella too clever to have reminders to remember
Losing her silver slipper on those steeple steps
Fate would have chance of choices we make
Constellations of our most important date
Leaving it all to chasing romances
Made from partners toasting lost chances
Future groom, are you still stuck in that misery room
Lost all that she wrote when that dear diary became broke
Sleepless in strokes of fine dining chimes of midnight
Our teapot genie to grant thee a wish of 3 carols by candlelight
Losing bets in yet again a game of chess
Even through the pity puddles and rain
She still wears her best on main
Curious to books of magic found in attics
Even fellow fanatics to cousins be ever tragic
Who we find as we walk by with that voice inside
Interior paramedic to pandemics of heartful goodbyes
Hearing poor Charlotte cry for her butterfly
Eating lunch of coffee just making minutes before midnight
Untouched wedding cake be on her flower plates
Where the groom just waits
Runaway bride, just runs inside
Hiding from the mere thought of male suicide
Baking cosmopolitans to give bakers their cosmology apology
Kissing clowns in our black gown with a Cobain bow-tie
Enchanted to be asked of this dance
Behind midnights masquerade mask
Getting back to a working version of cheeky whiskers grinning
Spreading love to all that be still with shotgun glitter
Our princess to ponies with stapled horns and her Nightingale crown
Home be where my heart left me
Hiding in her Miss Hubbard cupboard
Bending spoons to what she calls the home of hidden brooms
Fathers Millennium star in a galaxy so very far
Dusting off his lost smile to photos of his little angel while holding par
How my heart does grow in years that I so well know
Like flowers of her garden
Where we sing with lost Lady Margaret
His happy place that stays where no delayed planes can travel
That stare to ensnare
Captivating minds of Providence Peculiars
Mountain ranges in first class Carpathian carriages
Come to my side dear child
Let that golden hair be our ships sail
Unfurl your curls in her wailing wind
By night shores we truly see our moon door
High tide be our heart to hear our sea star
Gaze through our mind maze
See the wonder of northern thunder
He came to be our true empathy
Herald of Harold our knighted moon child
Hold him in motions of emotional oceans
New sight through windows of starlight
Bursting colour above our first mother
With our kaleidoscope eye
See my world you left behind
Fathers call to listen but never hear
Daughters cry to account of no tear
Hold to us this promise never called
Collecting seashells trailing in thought
