English Architect

The English Architect

Drawing, drawn, drawn out
Led from cosy lofty space
His official place
By far below bellows

Young Celtic fellows
In sporting devotion
The source of commotion
Precise lines blurring.

Designs he has
This placid stranger
On the construct of peace
Twixt work and play

'Tween fellows and he
The plan, the view
To purchase a crease
In pastures green

This cute old Angle so benign
The peace he finds
Applying soothing voice balm
To claim the celtic calm

That accord achieved
In elevated peace withdrawn
Plans he weaves
For plots not his own

On other drawing board
A deadly plan hatching
From a single chamber
A designer death despatching

And, up in airy room
The fixer fails to see
His life loom nearer inevitably
To pretty emerald tomb

In pastures green
At crease unaware
Young Celtic fellows declare
A joy by English Architect unseen