Peter Buss

Kent, UK

Born 1947, attended Penderel Private School. Then Homewood secondary school, Tenterden. Worked for 2 years at Springfield, Maidstone, then went to Clacton-on-Sea, teachers training college. Gave up courses in 1968, did a bakers round in Sussex (Wadhurst) for 3 years. Then worked in butchers shops, (Uptons). Met Jill Watson but did not marry. Then worked 8 years in factory made redundant given pension. Now attend Asarius Day Centre for psychiatric patients and have found several miraculous cures.

Angels

Bright angels stood at the break of the day
In a transparent mood and with joy they did say
"Let us stand with the cord and watch them go by
Let us stand o'er the hedge, and the pig in the sty"
So they stood and they watched
And they sang and they prayed.

For a while, little while,
Till the organ stops stayed,
Then they flew on their wing
Back to heaven's bright shore,
There to sing with a swing

For ever and more.

Spring

The linnet, the lark, and the thrush may sing.
All for to crown us with a true spring,
All for to crown now the break of the day,
When millions of flowers were pass on our way.
The millions of flowers that bloom but to die,
What answer that question that if we ask why?

'Tis creations great cycle, we're born now to die,

Then rest in eternity there in the sky.
The birds sing their song,
All ages along,
The fish dart beneath the depths of the wave,

Young people at discos do dance now and rave.
The linnet, the lark, and the thrush may sing,

All for to crown us with a true spring.

The Seagulls

The seagulls sang in the sunlit sky,
Over the waves you could hear their cry,
Among the rocks and the seaweed tall

The seagulls are circling large and small.
Over the Downs and the chimney stacks,
Seagulls are seeking out crevice and cracks.

Out by the water seagulls are flying.

Whether the year is awaking or dying,
While round and around they are circling for fun,
When the year is ending or has begun,
A special bird is the seagull.

Gaiety

The gayest songs of the morning
As the mist hangs over the hills,
For they dance, and they dance, in the Eastern world
While humanity pays its bills.
For the song of the Moonlight Sonata,
And the frost on the snow-white fields,
Oh! they dance, and they dance in the Eastern world,
While the yellow harvest yields.
The gayest songs of the morning
Forever the world goes round,
While the clock ticks by on the mantelpiece.
And the birds in the trees make a sound,
For ever and ever all nature sings,
While the lark up above doth soar on its wings,

And they dance, and they dance in the Eastern world
The gayest songs of they morning.