Wednesday, 26 October 2011

Aston Hall

Alien Invasion in Aston

It is as if a spaceship had descended
A bloody great Jacobean one
Descending to destroy the muck and grime
The ugliness of what surrounds , calling time

On the careless buildings which abound

Squat and ugly temporary
Bland insipid monstrosities
That choke at its chimneys
And paw at its gates
Over run by mediocrity most ignominious of fates

A superior race with thought and care
With time to wonder what goes where
Should visit us fast
To conquer those who build not to last
For Holte and Watt were visionaries too
Not men for suffering architectural fools
Who allowed place and sightlines to be wrecked, blocked and mangled
All in the name of progress and new fangled

The alien forms would question the intelligence,
Of those who thought that the M6 had perspective relevance
To splendour and pride and artistic aesthetics
Not a bungled attempt at a transportation quick fix
So roll out your weapons and your powerful armouries
And flatten the offending to restore landscape harmonies.

The Long Gallery- Aston Hall

Where ladies pout whilst showing out
Escorted by husbands or young men
Where gossip slips from indiscreet lips
Of who, and what and when
With reports exchanged of Trafalgar or Waterloo
Or other tales of Empire derring-do
On the turn she might expose a heel, perhaps an ankle
Just a glimpse enough to make paramours thankful
Haughtily ignoring the gasps, the sighs
For really this was but light exercise
When outside rain might smudge a perfectly powdered nose
Or risk a stain on virgin white hose
When precipitation might flatten carefully coiffeured tresses
Or dampen the line of voluminous dresses
Which dipped, swept and ostentatiously swayed
At the distinguished , morning promenade

Groom to the Stool of the King

(Inscription above the fireplace in front of which the servants dined)

If service be thy means to thrive
Thou must therein remain
Both silent faithful just and true
Content to take some pain

If love of virtue may allure
In hope of worldly gain
In fear of God may thee procure
To serve do not disdain

If you are groom to the stool of the king
Whenever his aides came beckoning
It was your task to produce his throne
A seat of which he called his own
For kings do not attend a lavatory
Instead they come to him you see
A noble regal affectation
Providing comfy defacation
And because sometimes before relief
His majesty would sup upon gold leaf
The groom would sift the contents rough and runny
As where there’s muck there’s always money

Aston Hall

Grand avenue
A mile long colonnade
Such grandeur and flat bread in a

Great hall
Roaring fireplace
Hosting nobility
Impressing Kings in a room and
A half

Shattered fragments
Blown by Parliaments force
Munitions and splinters remain
In place

Tunnels and doors
To the church or beyond?
Escape route from foul treachery
And fear

Wealth and excess
In perfect symmetry
Subjugation and achievement

No comments:

Post a Comment