DC (1966 / Hampshire)

A Folded Flag....

A pondering renegade muses with guilt,
In a corner of a sepia field,
Under my nose, log fires and ale,
And a track... no one knows where it goes....

Taken pride, in plastic heritage,
Taken prisoner in my own domain,
A pondering renegade muses whether...
The 'weather' says flee or remain....

A townsman with country-fed veins,
Saw the patchwork shrink at the seams,
Smoke never clears from ambition,
It just strengthens the spiders' web chains...

Nothings' all black for tomorrow,
A flower will grow from a crack...
Wish I could stop your clock for a moment,
and show you the 'vision' we lacked.

So this englishman, rent with confusion,
Carefully folds up his flag....
Lets' the gypsy inside come all over...
And the Heart and the Souls' in the bag....

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

loved this.. great work.. please add more xx
Dont know about you Darren but my flag is right at the top of the pile.Fluttering gloriously in the breeze.A symbol of all that's right in the world and the home of real ale.Nice write me old Chinah... Sid.