Sovereign

With all our fascination

With the kings and queens of yore,

The sovereign power of the hour

Wears heraldry of War.

Without a scepter or an orb,

Without a velvet robe,

The lines that separate each state

Keep peace around our globe.

How can this be? No leader’s creed

Exerting might and right?

And yet, somehow, we co-exist,

Somehow, resist the fight.

And each respects the other

And its right, to self-decide.

Tranquility trumps Nobility, yes–

If only we stay inside

Our borders. But should one arise,

Who, chomping at the bit,

Forsakes and takes his neighbor’s stake,

Exceeding his remit–

Well, then our system crumbles.

Co-existence is a farce.

A simple plat, writ on a map:

Not worth a peasant’s arse.

For sovereign is, as sovereign does–

One sovereign, to another.

And to enjoin an equal coin,

We must defend our brother.

Though history teaches, there are breeches

Ever, of this rule,

As each would gain, once lost, ones land,

And in conquest, play the fool,

Still, who amongst us wants to see

Our city turned to rubble?

It’s our standing by, while others die,

That’s got us in this trouble.

Copyright 2022 Andrea LeDew

For a poem about another kind of competition for land, read Turf War. For another poem about Ukraine and the destruction of Mariupol, read Summer Playground.