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)
New Born Blues
One day, I said, to the Lord, A whispered prayer, over my shoulder, One day I will know. One day you will show me, What it is in me, That ...
-
I don't wanna be your drone And I don't wanna work from home I don't wanna end up all alone So I'm on strike, I won'...
-
I find the cool channels between buildings where the wind finds flow, This breeze block, asphalt, concrete complex, Where the radiance of ...
-
Let Me In I don't stand at the door and knock, It's not that my calls on the phone go unanswered, It's not that you forget to ...
No comments:
Post a Comment