Thoughts Above Clouds









Be still, lonely heart,

The time of joining

Draws ever closer.

Wait with quietude

In the verdure

And the Unicorn

Will appear,

To lay his weary head

On virgin breast.

Sweet heart, dear heart,

Have no fear for the beast,

For the Hunter will bring no harm.

Where love alights

With truth and trust,

There forms a charmed circle.

Those kissed by lust or greed

Are powerless to enter -

Turning their backs to the light.

But those without fear

Are One with Love:

And made most gladly welcome.

The Writings of J A Storey-Taylor


How sad to hear the sound of guns

Beneath the olive tree.

To hear the lustful cries for blood

That will spill to mingle with the mud, and

To know the persecuted flee

Before a mindless killing spree

Beneath the olive tree.

How sad, for some, the sand fast runs

Beneath the olive tree.

A bullet aimed can't be withstood

And a single voice achieves no good,

But breaks to heed the piteous pleas

As, trapped, the preyed fall to their knees

Beneath the olive tree.

Token of love and peace,

Broken by trigger's release,

Beneath the olive tree,

Beneath the olive tree…

How sad, the Grace the killer shuns

Beneath the olive tree.

'Tis his own heart shall fill the shroud

Yet, far from shamed, the man stands proud.

His song of triumph filled with glee,

Makes of love a mockery,

Beneath the olive tree.

Beneath the olive tree.

Beneath the olive tree….

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