A metaphor to pack a punch
'Twas Lear the king
And not his wiser fool
Who truly showed no wit no skill
At reading people
Discernment, good from ill
The daughters with names like diseases
Favoured, whilst the meek and the mild
Youngest child
Not wishing to self-promote
Not able to fawn or to dote
Cordelia, he cast into darkness
Till too late and dead, the dread
Never never never, lost forever
Not possible to be more wrong
Judgement call and choice
Too gentle, soft her voice
But still his words- self-pitying
Too late his error seen
The hopeless dad, out of touch
Giving too little, demanding too much -
Still his words ring true
And resonate, four centuries late
The gasp the wince the worse than any pain
It's plain, ever will remain
How sharper than a serpent's tooth
It is
To have a thankless child
The bard as ever timeless, wise
To push and pull, fierce/ pierce
Of anguished family ties
A metaphor to pack a punch
Glove to solar plexus
Well said, hammer hit
Fit, nail's head
'Twas Lear the king
And not his wiser fool
Who truly showed no wit no skill
At reading people
Discernment, good from ill
The daughters with names like diseases
Favoured, whilst the meek and the mild
Youngest child
Not wishing to self-promote
Not able to fawn or to dote
Cordelia, he cast into darkness
Till too late and dead, the dread
Never never never, lost forever
Not possible to be more wrong
Judgement call and choice
Too gentle, soft her voice
But still his words- self-pitying
Too late his error seen
The hopeless dad, out of touch
Giving too little, demanding too much -
Still his words ring true
And resonate, four centuries late
The gasp the wince the worse than any pain
It's plain, ever will remain
How sharper than a serpent's tooth
It is
To have a thankless child
The bard as ever timeless, wise
To push and pull, fierce/ pierce
Of anguished family ties
A metaphor to pack a punch
Glove to solar plexus
Well said, hammer hit
Fit, nail's head
8th November 2010, The Drive, Brighton
No comments:
Post a Comment