For England 2016 Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

You were so beautiful my own country
Your fields and fells the honest sun received
And under open skies the air was free
As all were equal and all bonds redeemed.

My place of birth you have grown sour and old
Uplifting hate to heart with evil lies
And now I find a touch that's coarse and cold
With devilment in hard deceiving eyes.

No longer does the land I loved seem green:
Three scores and ten to ashen grey have turned
The sparkling summer's days that once were seen
When truth glowed bright as lamps of justice burned.

For fear of which, I cannot leave unsaid
My dread thy beauty's summer is forever dead.