The minds of Europe tolerate no pain

The parasol to shield friends from the sun
Has fallen backwards in the autumn winds
Goodness flew away and  Europe’s done

There is no birdsong, thieves  have been and gone
An autumn gold has fallen on my mind
I live here like an ancient, tied to none.

Yet I must declaim the harm we’ve done
The referendum’s fruits  leave  blight behind
Cordial neighbours scorn us, where’s the plum?

I see some little weeds  make up a crown
I must enjoy their  greenness, love of mine
Before  machines  shall trample all  growth down

I still admire the  blades of grass in towns,
Between the flagstones, there they have their reign.
Civil life has flown, the sun falls down.

As Oracle, disaster I proclaim
The minds of Europe tolerate no pain
The parasol did shield us from some sun.
Summer’s  died and   Brexit is no fun