Ghent Is Abandoned Now, So Gloucester Weeps
My salad days were mainly spent
Across the sands of Dee
Where spirits were not tightly pent
On any milkmaid's knee
Were she a Navajo or Cree
From Gloucester or from Ghent
They told me of a ship that wrecked
Among the reefs of Elle
Where hordes of brigands roam unchecked
Despite the frightful smell
That beckoned, coyly, down to Hell
In style uncircumspect
They told me of its cargo bold
Athwart the lawns of Kew
Where stories ever are unrolled
(What else is there to do?)
The held, I heard, held Dinty stew
And kept it quaint from mould
| Contributors: | Apsley, (trad), Roland, F, Chevalier, Helen Owly. |
| Poem finished: | 11th October 2005 by Surlaw. |