Tomorrow sees the 100th anniversary of the end of the Great War (WWI). To mark this occasion today I’ve decided to take a break from the status quo and write a poem. A piece of prose addressing a fallen soldier from that conflict, referencing the irony of this centenary celebration’s close proximity to seemingly fraught Brexit negotiations between the UK and the European Union (EU).

Ive not written a great deal of poetry in the past. As alluded to during a parody autobiographical passage in one of my books, I’ve a reticence about writing poetry after as a youngster my mum told me “Promise me you’ll never write poetry… Oh, and never pay over the odds for a cheese grater.

Much to her chagrin last year I did write a small book of poems. However, on the plus side I’m yet to pay over the odds for a cheese grater…… Unless £2.75 is excessive for a utensil to grate cheddar.

poppy.jpg

I’m not affiliated to any political party (I disrespect all parties equally) and voted to remain during the referendum, but the apparent agenda by the EU to ‘punish’ the UK for having the gall to leave their sacred club leaves a bad taste.

This now obdurate continent that’s benefited greatly from this sceptred isle’s economic, technological and military input over the past hundred years or so. A ‘punishment’ handed down merely for a government’s desire to fulfill the will of it’s countries majority.

Not a big win by any stretch, but a win nevertheless. An option I personally voted against, deeming the EU status quo preferable to a journey into the unknown. Not to mention my opinion a decent proportion of those voting leave were doing so for no other reason other than ill though out nationalistic vitriol.

My desire to remain also driven by the fact even canvassing parties were unable to clarify how Brexit would impact voters lives…… Something, it seems to me, still not rectified in the two years since the referendum.

Right, rant over!….. I shall forever be indebted to the fallen during that dreadful conflict between 1914-1918. Even though I didn’t know them, I shall always remember theirr sacrifice and at 11am tomorrow morning join the country in reverentially bowing my head in quiet appreciation.

Sceptred Isle’s Soldier

Sceptred isle’s soldier….. Was it worth it?

A century past since cannon fodder served.

Aspirations of continental unity again in disunity.

Thine sacrifice always remembered, unless sceptred isle’s freedom sought.

Britannia who ruled the waves, waving goodbye dignity bereft?

Hard border disorder claims the Strasbourg Recorder.

 

Sceptred isle’s soldier….. Was it worth it?

Thou thine courageous legacy always present in tribe’s memory.

Brussels corridors sees tumbleweed blow.

Those bailed out sully memory of bailers brave.

Your contribution to freedom dissipated in ungrateful minds.

Red tape usurps red poppy in vindictive consciences.

 

Sceptred isle’s soldier….. Was it worth it?

One hundred years since your inhumane slaughter.

What price gratitude? What price proletariat voices?

What price camembert when Britannia waves goodbye?

The eleventh hour, eleventh day, eleventh month 1918 – A nation in seventh heaven.

 Survivors exhaling in exaltation; Your premature slumber beholden.

 

 

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