After our roundup of his 'Ode To Richard III', Croyland felt that Beware! failed to convey the level of respect for his poetic abilities that he had perhaps come to expect from the expert panel at The International Society Of Poets. Indeed, the Richard III Society's Canadian office were more impressed than we were and, encouraged by this, we were compelled to bring to your attention this wordy wonder, which is a touching and heartfelt overview of Croyland's relationship with the land, and his frustration with wildlife protection laws.
According to his accompanying telegram, Croyland entered this particular poem into a contest run at the WWT Welney Centre, achieving the level of 'commended'. As usual, Beware!'s Poetry Hallway staff ran a brief check and it seems the Croyland was actually disqualified from the contest and banned from any further involvement in Wildfowl & Wetlands Trust events. Oh well. We suspect another complaint from Croyland will soon land on Poetry Hallway's doormat.
|Canada's Richard III Society: in love with Croyland. It must be true - they said as much on Twitter.|
The Sublime Setting Sun Which Licks My Fields
When ball of gold so round and hot,
Escapes the daytime like a shot;
It makes me think of things I have,
Things I'm lucky that I've got.
Like ditches, dykes and slimy holes,
And frogs and toads and beastly moles,
Or all those birds which fly above,
Which I cook to death and eat in rolls.
And then the people from the police,
Say I must obey, desist and cease,
From clobbering all those yummy birds,
Like swans and wrens and hawks and geese.