Brexit Sonnet No.12 – ‘The Man in Covert coat’

What words used he, the Man in Covert coat,
Did he dare to speak of a second coming?
Of a Nation’s choice, a chance for second vote,
Or is it simply part of plan most cunning?
So ‘May be just’ I heard him say out loud,
May be there, but ‘Just’, I thinketh not.
So give me a second vote, I remaineth proud
To cross my paper and rid us of this plot.
So in these confines, let slip the dogs of war;
Cry ‘Havoc’, let carrion feed on Brexit’s bones.
And bury the deed ‘neath curséd altar floor,
To leave as dust and spare the blesséd stones.
His words flew up, his thoughts remain below,
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

©Keith Murphy