St Georges Day Poems

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St Georges Day Poems
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Dragon

Behold you wretched people and hark to what I say
For I have come to tell you it is not your lucky day;
Just lately I have noticed that my shape is getting thinner
So I have chose you to be providers of my dinner.
I'm sure I needn't tell you what I'll do if you refuse
So let me put it this way I wouldn't want to be in your shoes.
commissioned by English Heroitage

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Commissioned by English Heritage

St George was out walking
He met a dragon on a hill,
It was wise and wonderful
Too glorious to kill

It slept amongst the wild thyme
Where the oxlips and violets grow
Its skin was a luminous fire
That made the English landscape glow

Its tears were England’s crystal rivers
Its breath the mist on England’s moors
Its larder was England’s orchards,
Its house was without doors

St George was in awe of it
It was a thing apart
He hid the sleeping dragon
Inside every English heart

So on this day let’s celebrate
England’s valleys full of light,
The green fire of the landscape
Lakes shivering with delight

Let’s celebrate St George’s Day,
The dragon in repose;
The brilliant lark ascending,
The yew, the oak, the rose
  Brian Patten 2008

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ST GEORGE! St George for England!
Clear rings the ancient cry;
St George! St George for England!
Who dares to do and die?

The fiery cross has called them
From the lonely Highland glen,
And Cambria's lovely vales resound
To the tramp of marching men.

From Erin's shimmering island
They cry is still "They come!"
And Tara's sacred halls resound
To the music of the drum.
 

They have left the dead unburied,
And the marriage feast delayed;
Till Belgium's wrongs are all avenged,
And the Huns' mad march is stayed.

They come from sunny Devon,
From Derby's vales and rocks;
Left are the pen, the loom, the plough,
Deserted are the flocks.

And St George is fighting for them,
While Heaven's vast Hosts, as one
Shall watch by them, and fight for them,
Till victory is won.
Mary Booth.

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St Georges Day Poems
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By George!

Once more unto the breach, dear Morris Dancers once more
Jingle your bells, thwack sticks, raise flagons
Cry “God for Harry and Saint George!”
Gallant knight and slayer of dragons

Patron saint of merry England
And Georgia, and Catalonia, and Portugal, Beirut, Moscow
Istanbul, Germany, Greece<br>
Archers, farmers, boy scouts, butchers and sufferers of
syphilis.

Multicultural icon with sword and codpiece
On, on you bullet-headed saxon sons
Fly flags from white van and cab
But remember stout yeomen, your champion was Turkish
So – get drunk and have a kebab
Elvis Mcgonagall

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We hear many stories of knights of old
Of men valiant young and true;
There are still brave hearts out there
I'm not one though-are you?

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No one calls it racist
When the daffodil's worn in Wales;
Or is offended by their dragon
With its forked tail and scales.

When St Patrick’s day comes round
And the shamrock's being worn;
The Irish are not treated
With insult or with scorn.

If a Scotsman on St Andrew’s day
Hoists his flag aloft;
He’s not proclaimed a fascist
Or ridiculed or scoffed.

So when St George's Day arrives
We English men wont hide;
For Elizabeth, England & St George
We’ll wear our Rose with pride.

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