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.
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