August
2007
The Castle0
All through that summer at ease we lay,
And daily from the turret wall
We watch the mowers in the hay
And the enemy half a mile away.
They seemed no threat to us at all.
For what, we thought, had we to fear
With our arms & provender, load on load,
Our towering battlements, tier on tier,
And friendly allies drawing near
On every leafy summer road.
Our gates were strong, our walls were thick
So smooth & high, no man could win
A foothold there, no clever thick
Could take us, have us dead or quick.
Only a bird could have got in.
What could they offer us for a bait?
Our captain was brave & we were true….
There was a little private gate,
A little wicked wicket gate.
The wizened warder let them through.
Oh then our maze of tunneled stone
Grew thin and treacherous as air.
The cause was lost without a groan.
The famous citadel overthrown,
And all it’s secret galleries bare.
How can this shameful tale be told?
I will maintain until my death
We could do nothing, being sold;
Our only enemy was gold,
And we had no arms to fight it with.
