All Holding Hands

ALL HOLDING HANDS Shiny and new, Brilliant and blue, Covered in crystal white, Oh'...what a sight, The freshness - sweet and light. More than a treasure, Wonder - pleasure. Silver and gold, Perfect folds And stately moulds. Across shores and sands, Gently sloping lands, All holding hands - To what it commands. Our yearning for this and these, Above, beyond the trees, With us down here - please. To scrape and scratch, To beg, to match, To be the first to latch. Pounding, raging heart, Things must have - not part - Protect, defend - at the start. New and more to eat and gaze, Of old tradition to amaze Of rightful duty within the haze. Over all - our racing eyes, "Come in, come in" to idealise - Must have, to hold, to prize. We were there, we saw, Fascinated with gore, ‘More - we want more’. Cheers and tears, Covered welcomely in ours and theirs… Through the years - Of gain and loss, We Search and Cross The desert and the moss. And these things once blue, Shiny and new, To it we threw. And to it they go, Rows upon rows, In fields not to grow. To be tossed and returned, Faded and burned "What did they learn?" These fields of rot, Safekeeping the have nots, Side by side Hide, forever they hide. Under dirt they lay, Forgotten with earth and hay - Still - to stay. Together forever they hide, Side by side Hide, forever they hide. Across shores and sands, Gently sloping lands, All holding hands - To what it commands.