I want to be,
Something from Thomas Hardy,
Summer fling,
Flung maybe,
The setting,
Without the tragedy,
Wear a cheese cloth smock,
Sucking a straw of barley,
Pitching into the haycock,
A young peasant Kinski,
A Bathsheba-style beauty clocks,
me swigging cider, thirstily,
From rustic earthenware pots,
To see as he sees,
Nothing but pleasant agriculture,
And find it disturbingly progressive,
And long for better days gone by,
When all was wild,
Free of style,
Natures child,
And maybe if we are lucky,
My grandchildren will long for my times,
As a time when England was,
A green and pseudo-pleasant paradise,
Instead of a post-apocalyptic,
Nuclear wasted series of barren ex-industrial islands,
I wish I was at that sheep dip with thee,
Miss Everdene,
With all ever green,
Bur without the poverty,
M Joseph 02/06/06
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
I find the cool channels between buildings where the wind finds flow, This breeze block, asphalt, concrete complex, Where the radiance of ...
-
Of all I have seen, She holds the scene, Sure and serene, Still as a dragonfly, Whose wings defy vision to hold her there, The effortle...
-
When honest becomes your brand, you'd better shut up shop The truth of you for sale, the under hand slides up top, Your candour on dema...
No comments:
Post a Comment