Rebel For Friend Rema

The cockerel crew at break of day.
Bid working men to make their way
to where they earned their honest crust
when hunger drives a man needs must.

Obey the cockerel’s clarion call.

So harness Dobbin to the plough
and leave behind a straight furrow
or hasten to the factory
amongst the grim machinery.

Obey the cockerel’s clarion call.

Of if perchance you’re office bound
surrounded only by the sound
of papers shuffled to and fro.
You have no choice you still must go.

Obey the cockerel’s clarion call.

On winter mornings dark and cold
and summer days when it grows hot.
But I don’t care I am grown old
and have retired so I will not.

Obey the cockerel’s clarion call.

3-Aug-08

http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

by ivor or ivor.e hogg

Comments (2)

REbel! predestined rebel..... thank you for this.. really not a rebel.. me.. only at times when rebels attack... Rema
Ah... How sweet to be retired. However, I don't know quite what I would do with myself and so I will continue to obey the cockerel's call. Good poem ivor!