The Life and Times of a Halberd

Cut from the oak, in dying it lives again.
Swishing harvest fields austerely as a judge,
Beheading the still and silent grain,
The axe come to call on Anne Boleyn.

With the beating of warlike Harry’s drum
Comes a withering wind, calling simple men,
Bringing their gifts to the deathless child of war.
The scythe that serves unforgiving Time
Broken with its master in the mud of Agincourt.