Still trying to hold back time and tide which waits for no man,

Canute of Westminster smiles and clings to a palm of gold coins

presented by those with real power and with a vested interest.

The stones that grated under his feet, the shale, the battered million grains of sand

Are nothing but a memory in which money to be thrown is no object.

With regal boots, the King of Westminster waded into the fury and cried out,

“Why Neptune does thy take offence with the poor souls of this land?

I command you pray, please desist and depart, take your waves

and leave our shores, surely we have shown due care to you in the past and Nelson’s Bell

has not rung in such anger or alarm.”

“Throw to me a sacrifice Oh Canute, deliver them to me, let them drown in the sorrows

you have all caused.”

“I have offered those less able Neptune, the weak, the spiritless, the ground down,

the bleak, the poor, the unworthy, the diseased, the reckless, the feckless, the homeless,

the ones who all deserve to drown. What else can I offer Neptune?”

Canute  shook his fist, the crown lay splintered into many parts and he felt all had gathered

in Union

lower their heads and walk silently away.

“The One with I.D. perhaps, would be a good start and of course as King, you should also offer

yourself to the tide but no I see that won’t be an option.”

Neptune smiled broadly, the blackened teeth, sharpened to the point of pain, bit into Canute’s

heart and whispered,

“For you have sold off everything in your green and pleasant land, the very soul and made it bleed

forever,  now I shall take the very soil from beneath your feet.”

 

Ian D. Hall 2014.