Monday, 30 March 2020

Rondeau Spring 2020

We are the dead, no more alive
Yet troubled, for you can’t contrive
Sweet freedom’s breath to quite deny
And blame our deaths to satisfy
Such theft. The means by which men thrive

Is freedom still.  Do not connive
To use us as a shield, deprive
Of life the free, to justify 
The dead.

Though dead, from death we could derive
Some gladness, if you would but strive
To keep sweet freedom standing by,
Release her, thus indemnify
Our loss.  Sweet freedom must survive
The dead

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