When I was painting my English Civil War
Miniatures I was changing sides
On an hourly basis.
That's a name to roll off the tongue.
I liked the lobster-tail helmets they wore
And their politics.
Removed me into the Royalist camp.
I liked a smoky liturgy
And a maypole dance.
Are shite- the neighbours shot in the back field,
Buried beside their blighted crops-
And they always last such a very long time,
The troops regrouping, the arguments
And a pagan- that is what I am
And I've never known where to stand when Charles
Steps into the rough-tongued January morning.