Poetry

Wednesday, 12 August 2020

Goliath

 

Two pigeons I saw on wild windy moor

A floating and filling the air

Death held their hand

Like a skipping companion

Death in a Peregrine’s stare

 

The z car beeped inside the busy street

But Goliath was empty dead on his feet

And he toppled the bean stork

Where jack and his mother talk

And Jack has more business there

 

Goliath, Goliath why do you take thy rest

In the grass of the wild moor?

The children are going and their mothers are sewing

Clothes for you elsewhere

Why do you think this the time to blink

Can’t you see Jack has his medallion?

And he’s swinging it around

It's making that whirring sound

Soon he'll let it fly in your direction

 

Goliath went to Ireland

He walked along the pounding streets

And upon the causeway

He met Danny Boy in a hostel

And Danny Boy did try to kill him


First he sang his song so sweet

And then he sang his shrill hymn

And it was someone from six feet

Who threw the stone that killed him

 

Yes they buried dear Goliath

Down near the cliffs of Moher

They lowered him down as a king

As Lilliputians did with Gulliver

 

They pinned his bones between the rocks

As a shipwreck, like a warning

So that if any giants should show their socks

They’d be dead by the next morning

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