Sonnet 119
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Across a pond a televisual church;
Displaying Armageddon unforeseen;
Our continent with theirs united: merged;
When British eyes ‘came glued to godless screens.
We fell at once into our chairs and pews;
As unbelievability unfurled;
A sermon painted in horrific hue;
An unprophetic evil unforetold.
A pestilential fever plagued glue-eyes;
Whilst fire and brimstone spoke destructive psalm;
And as this story true yet not devised;
For us to bear: a cross, to offer: alms.

Yet as not concrete-steel nor God protect;
So hopeless was each prayer and genuflect.