So sweet the word for charm, light-heartedness,

Now fashion rent, quick to be debased,

Became the flag of homosexualness,

Sadly deemed forever so displaced.

Forsaking pleasant words as worthless litter,

To gather driftwords from Atlantic seas,

Ancestry-fashioned words reduced to gibber,

So who is the guilty party?  You and me!

There is no point, no value in destroying

The sweetest songs that language ever sang,

To see our vocal history slowly dying,

Dismantled by a crude ill-mannered slang.

When stalking the next victim word I pray,

Think on the fate of pretty little Gay!

                                                                                                        ***************************

More poems you might like to read by Charles Moorhen:

Tell Me O’ Ghost of Medieval Man:

Pure White Crosses: World War One poem:

Pure White Crosses: The Rock-Music version of the poem.

They Made Me Stay Behind: World War One poem.

I Believed You Honourable: World War One poem.