Those long strides of Hong Kong dukes
that arrived where no castles had grown
You might as well of placed those coins
on Rainforest eyes planning to turn and
swathe the world in cotton.
Whilst wool loomed large in historic town
only loaned along with tavern terms
carved on cutty sark boxes sunk along
with cutlery a god in need of the rest
a line break to feed a thought lost
turtle soup where garlands
Lay their flowering bulbs of orange
Courts scented by perfume girls
Bathing In barrelled salts and at a
Pinch Oil of Uranus already mined.