100 - A hundred sonnets flowed fresh from my pen

A hundred sonnets flowed fresh from my pen -
Its muse the issues in my mind each day.
This diary in verse brings news and then
Adds rhyming comment as and when it may.
A hundred rivers flowed fresh from their source,
Once used by fishes, abused by fissures
In pipes that spill acutely toxic sauce
Into the Bombay mix, or in Russia’s
Irradiated veins. To question kings,
As Litvinenko found, is to court death.
Free speech has a new martyr. Funny things,
Words. They are a weapon, like dragon’s breath.
Words always divide, like a sharp knife blade.
Once said, a sonnet cannot be unsaid.
Wed 13 Dec 2006