Hurrah for Little England

From an original version published on the eve of the Brexit vote.

 

Hurrah for Little England

She cast herself adrift

Say goodbye to Brussels

We’ll head into the mist.

 

Don’t know where we’re going

The captain’s overboard

But we won’t be ruled by foreigners

Or people from abroad.

 

We’ll resurrect our Empire

They’ll surely want us back

So it’s goodbye to the future

We’re turning back the clock.

 

No need for foreign factories

No need for all those jobs

For life will just be perfect

With all the foreigners gone.

 

We’ll reclaim all our colonies

Take America back;

Canada and New Zealand

They’ll surely all want that?

 

Goodbye foreign subsidy

That’s not what we need

Londoners will pay for us

Let’s let London bleed.

 

Goodbye banks and bankers

We don’t need city jobs

Life will just be perfect

When Britain’s on its tod.

 

It really should be easy

Why the awful fuss?

Those beastly Europeans

Make it hard for us.

 

It’s really not your business

We won’t obey your rules.

Why do you think as customers

You have the right to choose?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Storm

The floods break in; the waters rise
Can fiercer climate be denied?
Storms will lash; they have before
And yet the warmer clouds hold more.

We feel the rising disconnect
The peoples’ sense of discontent.
Who knows their will? Who rides the storm?
Who parts the waters; can perform?

The rising tides will not relent
Till crumpling waters force a rent.
The dam can’t hold, it’s washed away.
Who rides the storm? Can save the day?