Shake an Island to its quick
But this slight black-haired
Goddess with angel voice
Cuts to the bone and core
Of her motherland without
Fear or favour or schtick
Almost a wrenching honesty
That battles against politics
And the mercantile fervour
Of our blighted age
In a folk tradition
Believing in the changing
Power of song she belongs
Quite among yet outside
Almost puritanical in her vision
I know no other contemporary voice
Who can say: I sing for Britain
© shaun patrick green 2011
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