Kali Yuga. On the Hindu wheel of time, this is the period in history when conditions are at their worse.
(Image courtesy of Christoph Sholz - Wikimedia Commons
Kali Yuga
It was that age when the Jesterbecame the King; and when the
farm got sold for fools gold;
when the hurdy-gurdy man
got paid to sing a song without
a rhyme; when we threw away
the fruit, while gnawing the rind
As for the Nation, we were told
never mind, as all too soon we’ll
set sail just like the heroes of old,
to reclaim what was ours by right,
sailing on until out of sight, those
business buccaneers minting gold.
But then we found that the clock lied,
as the calendar went out with the tide;
and the bankers pocketed the key
while politicians as always repined.
So, God help us, we had to move on;
for better or worse its now past 2021.
© D G Moody 2023
Poetry by D G Moody
Read 53 times
Written on 2023-10-20 at 16:50
Tags Brexit
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