The spotlight is on the broken coastline
porous - like archers spilling arrows
into the vanquished hinterland.
In the ancient West Mercia
wooden bridges collapse
uproar, as the King's regiments
long disbanded , ghosts
into fading memory.
Our defenders, our loyal subjects
enmeshed into the wider fear
our citadels breached,
and where is the valour
the self reliance of our septic isle?
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 3:50 PM UTC
The spotlight is on the broken coastline
porous - like archers spilling arrows
into the vanquished hinterland.
In the ancient West Mercia
wooden bridges collapse
uproar, as the King's regiments
long disbanded , ghosts
into fading memory.
Our defenders, our loyal subjects
enmeshed into the wider fear
our citadels breached,
and where is the valour
the self reliance of our septic isle?
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