Sunday, 14 September 2014

Once upon a small blue hill….

A rewrite of a poem for kids I wrote years ago about a turtle….

Once upon small blue hill, 
A haughty PM stood.
He'd forgotten why he stood up there, he only knew he should.

He stood and stood, much time flew past, 
And still he stood, quite still,
Standing on a heap of lies, atop that small blue hill.

At length a horde came up to him, 
In bright and varied guise,
"Why stand you here oh perjured one, beneath these hostile skies?"

"Don't question me," the PM said, 
"At the end of the day I must,
For there is some design in this, I stand up here on trust."

"You're standing on a pile of lies!"  
The horde cried out in rage,
"You absurdly stupid politico, why don't you act your age?"

"Nonsense," the PM muttered, 
"It's how it's meant to be,
"Besides, I need my pile of lies, they're all I have," said he.

At that the horde cried out aloud, 
And prepared to storm the lies,
They polished up their hows and whens, and sharpened up their whys.

The PM stood defiantly, 
But the ground began to sway -
Then opened up and swallowed him. 'Twas on election day.

The End.

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