CNOTTA
In the North,
By a winding river, bounded by thick reeds and trees,
Where swans sing across misted ings,
And fly over gentle, fertile fields,
Stands a plain, vale green,
Where Saxon Man founded his farms,
Under the Pale of Cnotta,
Across the northern sea he had come,
To conquer an Island Race,
Who lived on the edge of the World,
Wild, blue-skinned and savage,
Dancing sexily to the drums they swayed,
Hunting, fighting and mating,
Their children fierce and bold,
Kaw-calling as they went,
Taking what they wanted, living in Nature,
But they were civilised by Rome,
And that was the end,
Of Pretanic Man,
Weakened, he gave way to the Saxon,
Farmer, explorer, adventurer,
War lord, law-giver,
He created England.
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