Here are people  who so love their kin

A lively group, then wildness slipping in
The ancient gods have come to life again
Waving phones  make video calls and sin

What is Xmas but eternal din?
Women making cakes and tickling men
A lively group with wildness slipping in

Where we cross the line and tumble in
Here we are in Bedlam  yet again
Waving phones  make video calls and sin

Here are people  who so love their kin
They make music with their sharpened pens
A lively group with wildness slipping in

Where did  this strange pattern  start, begin
Was it God who ground Spinoza’s lens?
Take the phones, the video calls, the sin

Civilising discourse  haunts again
How long  to reinvent  the fountain pen?
A lively group, the wild gods slipping in
Waving  hammers, call us, tempt to sin