From the media, (as we know by now),
King Richard wasn’t dug up by a plough,
or discovered under a Bosworth field ...
but instead his bones were buried to yield
(through the auspices of a council clerk),
beneath a city’s municipal car-park.
Leicester is now exceedingly chuffed,
claiming ‘finder-keeper’ rights of bluff.
But white-rose York expects by Easter
to inter King Richard in their Minster.
They’re calling for a judicial review,
to settle the disputed ‘rite of venue’.
Planning to meet in twenty-fourteen,
a ‘red and white’ battle is foreseen.
The outcome being dependent upon
the extent of arguments undergone.
And so it appears the King will ferment
Another winter of discontent.
Joan Raleigh
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- Refuge of the Song Thrushes - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
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