Better a Puritan, who knows the price of sin,
Than neophytes of nonsense, who should not begin
To prate of NHS benefits that all were lies,
When those that they support, plot its demise.
Rather I’d hug the probity of Plymouth’s dads,
Who, narrow-minded, still were outward-looking lads
And cleave to my old continent’s cousins of kind,
Whose faith in their shared peace proclaims my mind.
For Europe, riven in their time, displaced good folk
Who, in this happier age, have shared a common yoke
To make a home, despite false “Glories” now unfurled,
A refuge for the weak, some bigots’ greed has hurled,
As grease for tank-tracks in a ‘Me-First’ world.
Last edited by Nigel Mace; 04-12-2017 at 05:24 PM.
|