Saturday, 10 June 2017

For The Betsey, a Poem

Stands out
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 the Uriah Heap song said.

We take part & sup,
lock-in to the ethos,
we make art to chuck
& for keepers,
we catch a surprise,
in this kingdom of merry,
as time flies behind
the curtain of mem'ry.

We congregate,
up junctionally,
celebrate unpunctually,
lick wooer’s wounds
adopt bar fly stance
from city types
to Trots, we tug our
locks unsubtly,
bawdy bow &
canny curtsy,
triumphantly raise
tankards brim,
to those without
& those within,

The Betsey.

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