The City Upon the Hill
is not alone in misery,
hear the groan of the
Sceptered Isle, mother
of Royalty.
Shattered from Brexit,
the mighty Britain is askance
to know which side his
bread is buttered. Very few
now trust May to fix it.
Think back to Agincourt,
and Henry’s swirling sword
that brought the continent
to its knees. Alas, the sons
and daughters of Empire
must now deal cannily with
a looming Europe to
protect their Cheddar cheese.
The bard of Avon blinks
a sad eye from under
a Trinity stone, recalling
the ringing peroration he
had given to John of Gaunt.
His finger itches to pen a final
play, offering the kingdom
not for a warring horse but a fair price.
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