Oxford brown.


Youth in May blossom pinks,
lottsa well met fella and lager drinks,
the swans are on the table,
that poor love is not able.

An Egyptian toy,
a curious boy,
all the girls a stallion,
of the wishing well and tumbling carrion.

As twee as an old oak tree,
a merry dance the free,
amo,
amas,
amat
the razor wired pussy cat.


All that will be left of us,
is tombstones, coffin handles and poetry.

~