The world is not an oyster, Theresa lied.
The Pope popped a pompous preposterous.
The world is not in the south, but north dark armours.
Nor can one survive mole two-eyed.
‘paper trail’ a trailblazer idolised by men.
Weaker-strong, a dagger is mightier
in immortal hearts. Minds mouldier,
mould a clay repertoire of a heathen.
Even the son of man can state his oath.
Standing on the face of earth ‘crossed’.
There was no hope on the stand. My Lord!
World! Alter your works with a crystal cloth.
Wind off, do not dither. Go tossed
And never coin to the horde.