Snow clouds hang  like   canopies forlorn,
Tinged with grey from lack of proper care,
While from the Channel sing the dread foghorns

Sailors in  the night  long for  new  dawn
Fear  boats of refugees may still sail there
Snow clouds hang  like   canopies well torn

A dinghy  holds the Saviour  lately born
There is no space on earth safe  from  great fear
F rom the Channel sigh the  families   drowned

From maternal’ space, Jesu  is torn
His father holds his arms  around  those dear
Snow clouds hang, are  lacy wings  no more

The hearts of  British ” natives”  have turned sour
Into Jesu’s side we thrust  our spears
Tune the channel.Requiems need scores

All  lives now, and all of time is here
Do not  mistake the song of silent choirs.
Snow clouds hang  like   canopies forlorn,
While in the Channel,  stuttering are the horns