The Secret Lives of Chimney Pots Iii

Marching out of the cloaked shires Of landowners, stockbrokers, Hereditary Peers, and ruddy faced Squires: A vast multitude of many varied Tribes. Amassing in the great cities, where, Inhabiting shadowy chambers, Behind nodding sighs and hushed Whispers, The Masonic Civil Servant plots and Confides. Standing vigil above forgotten Monuments And bronzed statues, that, inside Unkempt parks and besides Littered Squares, in perpetuity, Faithfully abide; Stubbornly promoting the Everlasting glory Of high hallowed names... Religiously worshiped every Sabbath Beneath revered and reverberating Frames - Resounding and quelling to the Pedantic organs pitched and booming Strains. Resolutely we have withstood the Grind Of immortal times incessantly rolling Waves... When continuing to peer across The ebbing swell Of your short, hurried days. Impervious to the full force of Lashing rain Beset within blackest night; Vaguely outlined against gossamer Veils of pervading twilight. Withstanding summers hot and Crackling, Ionized, cloud smashing storm; Menhirs and Monoliths rising large Against the looming horizons Of every blazing newly formed Morn. Laid by the brickie in various Assortment of bonds: English, Garden-Wall, Dutch, Monk, Flemish, And a myriad of nondescript ones. Flaunched oversailors deflecting Onto green-lichen covered tiles; Our lime-mortar filled joints and Beds generously spread and Troweled: Feathered, ironed, and Weather struck In many differing and purposeful Styles. A plethora of designs, whether it Be common, grandiose or middle of The road, Purpose built for the occasion, Befitting of course, For a gentlemans abode. Twin Tudor Stacks, Twisted stacks, Decorated, Stylized, Squat and Tall... And for the grandest of residence: Potted with Crenallated-Crown - This surely beats all! Sheedie, Floral, Beehive, Baron, Three Bowl, and Captain pot; Not forgetting Candy Twist, Gulson Barrel, Great Bishop, Surrey Octagon, and much vaunted Castle Top...To name but a few, Enhance upon and characterize Each individual, and uniquely Pleasing - Much celebrated view. Proud sentinels raised high to The memory of your dead and Fading name... Albeit the common council house, Or ancestral home of the lauded Duke Or titled Dame. From the plainest of builds To the most magnificent of halls: From the Hood to the Stack, Through the division of the Withes - The Flue constantly draws. Alone in hushed rooms where the Dusty rods of sunlight pour; Dozing opposite the dark Oaken Paneling that clashes with the White Interior door; Lulled by the soothing tick of the Gleaming carriage Clock...That Fastidiously accounts for every Spring Loaded click Of every seconds counted tock. All those boring little games you Play Of grubby kiss and tell:- Crass and vulgar tabloid tales Of sordid front page affairs! Quietly as the slippered foot May... We still hear about it first... Here, upon your thickly carpeted And unobtrusive little stairs.