Caesar's Camp
I survey a tiny corner
Of the world from here
The highest point
For miles around
And used, they say,
By the Emperor Caesar
Some little time ago
For similar reasons.
The celestial backdrop
Is enlivened by
The hobby of a gang
Of boyish adult men
Fiercely defending
Their Sunday morning
Against the Amazon hordes
From this ancient motte and bailey.
Yes, a flock of gliders
Remote controlled and
Battery powered command
The air, and now one
Dives, spectacular, to re-appear
Above the crest, bashless
As a first division centre forward
Moon-lighting in the Sunday League.
Below, the town extends
Toward a sky blue sea
And goes about
Its Lord’s day business quietly
And here, far, far above it all
A kestrel hovers in the breeze
Has cause to ponder wisely
All he sees.
Page(s) 13
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