Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I see you in the storm
Of rain lashed eyes,
I feel you in the wind
And tumultuous tides.
I see you in the fire
Splendid tendrils of desire,
I hear you in the songs
Of solemn, mournful choirs.

I found you in the stars
Sat upon the shoulders of Orion.
I found you in the shadows
Another lonesome scion.
I found you in the fall,
Leaves encaptured and enthralled.
The weight of an oceans promise,
The allure of waters call.

Yet for all our senses we couldn't see
The sense of foreboding melancholy.
That which was found in the depths of the sea
You found it all,
All except for me.
To me a poem is a Statement, even a Speech.
So, Friends, Britons and countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Britain, not to praise it.
The evils that empires do live long after them.
Colonial wrongs seem never put to right.
Achievements hidden away in dusty books
By historians, all honourable men (and women!).
Yet historians say the Brits were too ambitious
And too self-righteous by half.
For historians are honourable men (and women).
They say we must accept that we’re a tiny island nation
And accept our place in the world.
Yes, historians are honourable men (and women).
They say we were too ambitious.
But now, the world is threatened by dark forces,
And only the winner takes the spoils (and writes the history!).
Once more unto the breach us Brits must go,
To fight like tigers
And smite the foe.

Paul Butters
With thanks to W Shakespeare....
Next page