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Poetry
by Chris Zachariou
United Kingdom


Τάκης Ζαχαρίου

Ποιήματα

Γιαλούσα, Κύπρος

Writer's pictureChris Zachariou

Till We Have Built Jerusalem | Political Poems


The White Cliffs of Dover
The White Cliffs of Dover

Cotton fluffy clouds sailing in clear blue skies English roses blooming in perfect English gardens.

Perfect English oak trees

rooting to the Magna Carta

in this perfect English village

with its perfect village green.


Connie recalls her night of lust and smiles drifting into dreams of Oliver. Clifford seeks comfort in the Sunday Telegraph brooding over affairs of state and the dark satanic mills turning to the winds of Europe. Wrapped in the Union Jack he hankers for the day when freedom will come to his hallowed land again.


At the fete

jealous wives watch with envy

sweet half-virgins of sixteen run around in skimpy dresses selling kisses for a shilling,

jolly Morris dancers are dancing on the green, stalls are selling fruitcake and strawberries with cream. The vicar in his pulpit like a soul possessed seethes with righteous anger preaching yet another sermon to an empty church and England's heart

will beat for ever in this green and pleasant land.

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