The grand illusions faded and the tide of British red turned back.
God-given rights and duties now revealed as self-bestowed,
Steel-backed benevolence as underpinned with unacknowledged greed.
Yet Albion’s shadow leaves a blight on many lands.
Poor Victoria! Imperialist warmonger. What wrongs done in her name,
What glib assurance given and treaties signed though scarce fulfilled.
The heirs of those who promised much, while yet extracting more,
Retreat now back within their walls eschewing all responsibility.
In now forgotten lands the native culture staggers punch-drunk,
A language spoken in antiquity protests supremacy of English tongue,
The settled dominance of planted over native sons remains divisive,
Past wrongs treasured inheritance to be remembered and revenged.
Antipodean English shared in the presumptuous mass delusion
As proud flag-wavers, anthem-standers, loyal fawners over royalty.
But morning dawns. Our mother shown less saintly by the light
Abandons us, her inconvenient children, to take a lover on the Continent.
A late Marquis of Normanby was honoured in the naming of a town.
Its name before, Ketemarai, recording ancient generosity, was set aside.
Its streets, with few exceptions, bear the names of British officers.
Unhonoured though the ones who ill-equipped came near to giving best.
A monument remembers men who died while fighting in ’the Maori war.’
British names again! Yet forbears of many locals fleshed the other side.
It adds, ‘Also loyal Maoris who fell while fighting for the Queen.’
Loyal to whom? those tribes from further south sought cruel retribution.
Historians agree that Taranaki’s wars were stirred up by sly provocation
To manufacture government excuse for confiscation of rich native land
The sale of which might pacify land-hunger in the tide of immigrants.
Some was filched for public works, some force-leased for peppercorns.
Imperial forces can’t be blamed nor the country’s Armed Constabulary.
One and all besotted by a glorious destiny, anaesthetic propaganda,
Doing duty at the risk of life to bring to fruit a governor’s base designs.
Some commanders understood and honour made them seek transfer.
The land was/is tribal. Individuals go, the tribes remain, want reparation.
And redress for fifteen decades of repression and overt paternalism.
Britannia who has skipped off, no address, and doesn’t want to know,
Leaves abandoned offspring to make good on promises, to pay her debts.