A CALL TO ARMS 2018
(A poem copyright Leslie A Rowe 18th January 2018)
I am the man that fell at Hastings,
Whose heart was pierced at Bannockburn.
Who was cut down at Agincourt
Even as I let my arrow fly.
The King he wooed his Kate
As MY lips were eaten by the crows.
At Marston Moor I did fall;
At Worcester was I trampled underfoot.
I drowned off Trafalgar
And lost my life at Waterloo.
At the Somme and at Passchendaele,
You will find my broken body
Left behind at Dunkirk
My corpse floats on the waters of Normandy.
I am the common man
Who has laid down his life
For his country, so many times.
And yet, and yet
What has this country done for me?
A country ruled by the generals
Who sat upon the hill, as
I shed my life below.
A country sold to the very foe
From whom I died defending.
A country now run by the selfish and the greedy.
Our country represented by thieves and usurpers.
Our voice ignored, our wishes spurned.
Once only in our lifetime has our voice been heard.
Above the clamour of the chattering classes.
But once again the wicked and the charlatans
Bend the rules to their own favour and
Cloud the issues with prattle and fakery.
Rise up; rise up, my fellow country folk.
'Tis time to cast off this yoke
Of subservience to those in power
And call this our finest hour
When we, once more, take up the sword
Bend our bows and fight
To declare our right
To rule our country and distain
Those who would take it from us again.
Yes, take back control
Take back our right
To stand up tall against the might
Of those who would claim
Their right to rule over me.
Send me no Kings nor Queens nor false politicians
Spare me from false princes
Hiding their ancestry behind pomp and circumstance.
My life, my country are mine own
To do with as I will.
'Tis time, 'tis time to walk the walk
To talk the talk
And defend our rights as human beings.
Defend our rights to the country
Our forebears fought to free,
But only succeeded in giving
To thee, mine enemy
Your right to bury me.
Leslie Rowe 18/1/2018