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My Poetry Blog

Sequor quod iustum est

For Shame, For Shame (poem 23)

The Trumpets sounded, the flags waved.
The Men and Women said I care.
They died in the heat of the Crimea.
They died in the damp of the World War One trenches.
Now you don’'t buy poppies.
Now you burn the poppies in the streets.
For shame, for shame
They died on the British Isles.
They died on foreign lands, far away from home.
They return now to empty streets or vial protests.
They return to the media that spits like venom, it’s just a job like any other, there are no heroes.
They jumped to certain death, when you said jump.
When you say jump they say how high?, not ‘I’'d rather sit on my ass and watch some more TV’ like you and I.
For shame, for shame
You think you can say that soldiers, sailors and pilots are not heroes, I say get away from that comfortable seat and go die for your nation, then tell me again there are no heroes!
Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

A Sunset Over History (poem 21)

A history like none other.
A history of pride and glory.
A history of Kings, Queens and Knights in shining armour.

A history of being conquered and conquering.
A history of crusades and crusaders.
A history of fighting for rights and freedoms.

Now this history of pride is scowled upon.
Now the history books on school shelves sit gathering dust.
Now the unappreciated freedoms of yesterday are killed by the day.

A history of a sun never setting on an empire.
A history of an island nation that conquered the world.
A history of nobility and great intellect.

Now the sun has set over the empire.
Now the sun has set over talks of its history.
Now the sun has set over it’s neglected people.

Now the sun can never rise again!

Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

Living History (poem 15)

We’re built from genes of by-gone ages.
We’re built from strands of our ancestors’ Deoxyribonucleic acid.
We’re built from bits and pieces from through out history.

From Farm Hands to Barons.
From Coal Miners to Kings.
From the ordinary to the Famous.

From the Forgotten to the Truly Unforgettable.
From the Bad to the Good.
From a White Feather to a Victoria Cross.

We’re built from the bits and pieces from history.
We’re each carrying the DNA of our Forebears.
We’re each Living History.

Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.

I Still Believe In The Ways Of Old (poem 14)

I still believe in Chivalry.
I still believe in Honour.

I don’t believe the New is best because it’s fashionable.
I don’t believe in destroying the Old to make way for the New.

I still believe in True Love.
I still believe in Diamonds and Wedding Bands.

I don’t believe caring for History and Cultural Heritage is immoral.
I don’t believe that it’s all been for nothing.

I still believe in the Monarchy.
I still believe in Titles and Coats of Arms.
I still believe in holding doors for females to pass through.

I still believe in it all and I will not give up.
I still believe in the Ways of Old.

Copyright © 2011, William Cody Winter.