SHE WAS PLAYING ‘LA MARSEILLAISE’ ON A PENNY WHISTLE

I met her but the once stumbled across her busking or begging I never was quite sure which sat cross-legged upon the pavement outside a charity shop in the High Street dressed in a tapestry of sewn together off-cuts of ‘this and that’ a hippie hat also playing La Marseillaise on the penny whistle if … More SHE WAS PLAYING ‘LA MARSEILLAISE’ ON A PENNY WHISTLE

ENGLAND, MY OLDE ENGLAND

Where once an amen egalitarian Round Table and Aston Martins galore now just the detritus of a bygone Camelot and bucket loads of ill will small vices, flawless nightmares and oh so fractured castles in the air Indigenous self-exaltation abreast home grown uninspired Cox’s Orange Pippins antipathy toward coffee coloured anything a kingdom that belittles … More ENGLAND, MY OLDE ENGLAND