All in all
The tide had turned
The case of the Jacobite
Was not heard
A tisket, a tasket, a dead fish in a basket
The sun broke like an egg yoke
Smeared everything in yellow
Like it was sick of being locked
In the Blue Robin egg shell of the sky
And the selfish clouds colluded
Like treasonous plotters
The way barnacles congregate – barns instead
of churches
On a blue rock
Then because all Nature
Thinks with is the wind
It comes like the tide
To try to dislodge these shellfish
