Nightmares in the abbey
There is a green hill not too far
Around its girth an age old hedge
Obscures the diesel chug of a passing car
Marble & Strawberry hills that aren’t
Though unchanged since Dickens & Pope -
Only the flight path betrays the rope
That binds us to contemporanea
Unchanged ancient marshy grasses through which adders slither...
To rue an age of poorer sanitation
Belies the spoiled and deadly degradation
Of a current plumbed-in time that leaves the weak to wither
Lascars in Limehouse, China boys with the blues
Now the future of futures holds time to lose
Rustication holds a crooked and stout supporting arm
To we who love peacocks on gothic land or country farm
There is a green hill not so close
Where romantics retreat to inhale
Their holy smoke dispensed in former dose
Primroses in repose, in gentle tranquil mood:
In the valley of nepenthe lies quietude...