Brexit Sonnet No. 81 – ‘Will of the People’

Now who is this ‘Will’ of the people I dareth to ask,
I’ve never seen him, but mentioned oft is he.
Famed, but in no limelight doth he bask.
This ‘Will’ of the people; whom we never see.
From Warwickshire’s fields of green and gold come I,
So I know this ‘Will’, he dwellth here about.
His voice – the breeze. His words the skylarks cry.
And I know against this Brexit doth he shout.
Our ‘Will’ of the people tells of scuppered isle,
This right mess of things, this earth of misery,
He tells of our discontented winter while
England numbed by evil Brexit wizardry.
This is no parting of sweetest lovers sorrow.
Our Will, for hapless cause, dare not ye borrow.

©Keith Murphy