For you

I shall make a sugary sung present of myself

using the brightest voice you have ever heard

stolen from an angel

 

It will lead you through a wonderful dream

 

and won't be in the style of the past

set in cold braille and aspics of silence

 

but accompanied with triumphal music

bonded together

with honey tones and spice

and all things much more than nice

 

yours to keep

for when comfort has gone into hiding

from the second coming

of the holocaust

 

don't worry

ghosts of the master races

can't complain

their blitzkrieg days

are over

 

they have had all the murderous chances

they are going to get

drunk and pissed them all

up against ruined worldly walls a'plenty

 

bloodstained walls

metaphorically recycled

with the cleanliness of love

 

and used quite often

to repair london bridge

each time it falls down

in a childrens nursery rhyme.

 

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© Patricia Wilde 2015