The breakfast table
\nFar from sparse
\nA sprig of the holy thorn
\nA farce
\nperhaps tradition
\nOur Long serving queen
\nThe illuminati
\nIts Feels obscene<\/p>\n
In Somerset
\nTo Glastonbury
\nThe uncle of Jesus
\nCame
\nto Wearyall hill
\nAnd planted his staff
\nOn a place so still<\/p>\n
It supposedly overlooked the town
\nAnd every Christmas
\nSets its crown<\/p>\n
A sprig is cut
\nAnd taken to
\nThe illuminati
\nOne who will do<\/p>\n
Whatever
\nBy her shredded wheat
\nAnd duchy dairy
\nShe can eat<\/p>\n
And remember
\nThat in Palestine
\nChildren suffer
\nNot hers or mine
\nBut someone else’s children
\nWho
\nshould be happy
\nAll life through<\/p>\n
But her beloved Israel
\nHave made the darkness
\nAnd blown the gale
\nInto their lives
\nAnd all they do
\nIs cry their hearts out<\/p>\n
And its true
\nSadness and their tragedy
\nJoseph probably knew it too<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The breakfast table Far from sparse A sprig of the holy thorn A farce perhaps tradition Our Long serving queen The illuminati Its Feels obscene In Somerset To Glastonbury The uncle of Jesus Came to Wearyall hill And planted his … Continue reading