Saturday, 10 June 2017

For The Betsey, a Poem


She,
Stands out
Like a pacifist, in
A field of coppers, he
Wonders what wonders
Beneath that bonnet, for
Arty opportunity, we
Take it as read, we're
Walking in your shadow
As t’ Uriah Heap song said.
We,
Take part and sup,
Lock-in to the ethos, we
Make art to chuck
And for keepers, we
Catch a surprise, in
This kingdom of merry, as
Time flies behind
The curtain of mem'ry,
We,
Congregate,
Up junctionally, we
Celebrate, un-puctually, lick
Wooer’s wounds,
Dysfunctionally, adopt
Bar-fly stance
Presumptuously,
From city types
To Trots,
We,
Tug our locks,
Unsubtlely,
Bawdy bow and
Canny curtsy,
Triumphantly raise
Tankards brim, to
Those without and
Those within,

The Betsey.


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