The natural grace that animals possess
The harmony of movement and of sense
Few Britons live well in their pallid flesh
The unseen side of skin when blessed, caressed
Softening the nerves’ we strangle, tense
May bring that natural grace Adam possessed
The kindness of the arteries, who addressed
The circulating inner seas that rinse?
Few Britons live well in their sacred flesh
The hollow veins ,the pumping heart , the blush
The expectation intimate, feared lost
The natural grace that animals possess
Vulnerable to others’ speech, ambushed.
Our unused appetites will turn and twist
The civilised don’t live well in their flesh
The old and fragile curse, they never kissed
We wait too long , articulate no wish
The natural grace that humans once possessed
We ‘re ill disposed,we falter. long for death
How my heart sings 