Best Albion Poems

My spiritual umber a-rose
Full in bloom, as in an erupt!
There was the a sweet scent of flora
Too… the frisk, of spring feeling fauna”
I viewed through...

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The Time of the Summer Solstice
 
Drums pulsing solemnly presage the break of dawn,
bonfires ablaze dot this auspicious June morn.
On the shores of Albion, Druid...

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Into the kingdom. 

From the kingdom was I bourne ancestral sailed into the fall of the hemispheres equator. Other earth side I became alive. ...

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Our heritage vanishing
Before us it's diminishing.
Stolen from us in broad daylight,
In hopes of better tomorrow we delight
While in ruins our yesterday lies,
As vices thrive and...

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<  This England..
Where the streets are paved with gold.
Or,so we're told!
This England..
Filled with so much hate and greed,
Where eyes are closed to those in...

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The ask of cultures. 
Dutch to Portugal, do you think colonisation of fruit and lands and their inhabitants was the fairest exchange of our tactics...

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Housewives peer from behind dirty windows
Catching signs of the scurrying nightlife
They know killing time is really a sin, 
Though they can be absolved by watching...

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The Song of Amergin: Modern English Translations

The Song of Amergin
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I am the sea breeze
I am the ocean wave
I am the...

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   Built in a Belfast shipyard
 for Shaw Savill ‘n Albion Line.
   On her flagstaff wind ‘n lee
 flew the Southern...

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The tender, torpid sun floats bored and heavy over vines
And casts his gentle, crimson rays upon the Apennines. 
Above the calm and golden hill, Agrippa’s...

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The breaking,
 the shaking;apace
  my king's fall is rise
   my land is anon taken.
        ...

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I’d like to whisper sweet nothings in your ear
My little chocolate almond butter cup oh dear
Don’t mind me if I turn up a little sweet...

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With bitter tears in my eyes and a loving sweet kiss

              Dear...

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Brutus Iulius Trois Page 04
Venus hastened to answer Aurora 
You still weep for Memnon but where is Memnon's grave?
the squalling Memnonides yearly honor an empty...

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(from novel  “Elinor Rigby”)
 
Why we have loved England?
Not for the Hide park,
ancient castles
and first class evergreen grasses and pastures,
not for Big Ben, Beatles...

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