Bread and Roses for All

One swallow will not our glorious summer make,

Nor red-tied frauds, true friends of labouring folk:

No friend of mine can love Apartheid’s yolk,

More swallowed lies, our nation’s heart will break:

Britannia’s future guard, for our Children’s sake,

Compassion’s spirit we must now invoke,

Let zeal for justice fill our Hearts of Oak,

Lest fate make any ...

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In 'our land', 
which retains its leafiness, 
despite how unseasonably 
a fine few are fallen.

Just beneath fury's fierce flame;
our city's many bridges
a metaphor for so much more
defiantly stand still.

I pray today, it's not just me
who hears them screaming silently
'To join together is our fate
we will not hate, we will not hate.'

4.06.17

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Which ever way

the voters turn

(Robbie, river and the flame)

for Auld lang syne

they've crossed the burn

proud Scots wha hae

a land to claim.

And even if

the map's the same

and even if

Westminster rules

Scotland's braves

they've yet to tame

coz they've the oil

ye Southern fools.

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