England’s Dream

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Poetry
My view on the rise of nationalism in the West, and the similarities between Britain & the US in all of this.

Submitted: November 09, 2018

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Submitted: November 09, 2018

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England’s Dream 
 
Did England’s dream survive the dawn?
Or as wisps on a light breeze, disperse?
Would her pleasant pastures, green,
Be ours, if not for Europe’s curse?
 
Oh, how the folly voter’s Cross,
Mourns that great fictitious land,
The heart, resolute, has Trumped the head,
The sword unsteady in the hand.
 
Oh! Alluring oaths they spoke!
Struck fear deep into the lion’s heart,
Then aroused in him, to fight? Or flee?
And through him, set those poor souls apart.
 
And that lion’s pride deserts him now,
Oh, how he broods in victory, sour!
His banners frayed, his lies, his fear;
Are All, in his triumphant hour.
 
While England’s pastures, fair indeed,
So beautiful this favoured land,
Makes for an envied dragon’s hoard,
But affords not a Pence to the new babe’s hand.
 
Oh, how the folly voter’s Cross,
Has mourned those darling buds of May!
Their fair land will elude their kin,
No matter how they think and pray.
 
 
 
 
 

 



© Copyright 2019 Adrian Hunt. All rights reserved.

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