50 words
Smoke in the alley of her love,
rank smouldering rags inside a barrel,
as swarthy Syrians push and shove,
like Moors of old, determined, feral .
They’ll raise the crescent, kill the dove,
till “Allah Akbar” drowns our carol.
Our children will learn soon enough,
in Europe, foolish, vain and sterile.
October 18, 2015