Ashridge protest 9/12/2018

We all felt the love this afternoon
The National Trust,became
The real people the nation ought to trust
Its what they claim
Of telling all the people
The good that the trust does
Then selling hunting licences
You could just feel that buzz

Ashridge plain and simple
Its woods and down lands where
Myriads of Foxes and Deers and Munkjacs
Share
And The poor old Hares of England behold
Their wavering cry
As hunters will be
Trailing
And the hares poor souls will die

In the mass of bluebell woods
The Birches and the Oak
The place where the significant
Walk their dogs no joke
And many seldom realise
Honestly That you
The people we are told to trust
What they are going to do

Is issue hunting licences
The wailing of these souls
Primal journeys
Cut short by the hunters
their sad roles
What a way to go
Killed and maimed for England
Its going to be a blow

The National Trust
Was on good form
Demanding the police should come
To antagonize the angels
And my word there were some
Standing very quietly in the December cold
And being constantly harried
And being clearly told

To move on,
it was a Christmas show
They were flogging stuff and we
Clearly were an embarrassment
How sad was that to see
Gently on our tannoys
We gave the welly fast
Telling the wood be visitors
As they were walking past

The National Trust
Can they be trusted
Well that was a moot point
Getting into bed with hunters
For us that was a joint
Execise in evil
The Hares too they agree
Trailing in the ashridge woods
Is wrong it shouldnt be

A site of scientific interest
A bird breeding community
People walking in the park
The greatest symphony
Of love and care and gifted souls
Their eyes peer from the wood
And to hunt them out of existence
How can that be good

They are going to do their spot checks
24 hours notice they
Will see the hunts are properly warned
We had to say no way
These splendid woods
Old Henry the 8th
Surely he would say
I bequeathed them to my daughter
And this never is the way

These lands should ere be treated
Hunting and killing here
Our protest brought back
Memories
All all those living in fear
The Foxes and the brown Hares
That nest upon the ground
We must always protect them
For they are heaven bound