The Rag And Gold Man
I am an ancient Mercian,
A dealer in the duff:
I've been on an excursion
To bargain for some stuff.
The times are hard, and gold is cheap:
They swapped some for a knackered sheep.
They gave away this helmet -
It's long gone for a Burton:
I swapped it for a pelmet
And a vintage Dark Age curtain:
Because they had to cut their losses,
They threw in some redundant crosses.
Now I know every Angle
And every hard-up Jute:
I didn't have to wrangle.
I loaded up my boot.
They gave me bargains, on the whole,
For Saxon drugs and rock 'n' roll.
I can't remember which field
I buried their bits of sword:
Perhaps my stash by Lichfield.
It's quite a little hoard.
I'll wait until its price in shillings
Rises. Then I'll make some killings.
