Homework for w/e 14.1.19 - POLLIE WANTS A CRACKER....
Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2019 3:53 pm
POLLIE WANTS A CRACKER ... Maureen Clifford The #ScribblyBark Poet
I am putting pen to paper as a protest here I write
to our local politicians - who seem heedless of our plight
and indeed hope springs eternal, though perhaps I am naive,
but their job as best I see it is to serve. I do perceive
that at times they tout for votes with promises they rarely keep
and I do oft' times just wonder does it haunt them as they sleep
that their promises are Paper Tigers - weak and without roar
and same promises are soon forgotten once they're in the door.
Dare I say at times I suspect they are just digging for gold,
and deserve a darn good slapping for the porkies they have told.
I can't afford the risk of getting my vote badly wrong
by some bloke who seems could charm the skin off a snake when the gong
rings out there for the faithful - to the hustings all must go,
where a gaggle of two legged geese are gavelled start to whoa
to maintain some kind of order, to give credence to their words ...
to my mind a bloody chook house and a commotion of birds,
as is heard when the sly fox enters within to kill the weak.
Give me strength, and please forbearance, when I hear a Pollie speak.
I am putting pen to paper as a protest here I write
to our local politicians - who seem heedless of our plight
and indeed hope springs eternal, though perhaps I am naive,
but their job as best I see it is to serve. I do perceive
that at times they tout for votes with promises they rarely keep
and I do oft' times just wonder does it haunt them as they sleep
that their promises are Paper Tigers - weak and without roar
and same promises are soon forgotten once they're in the door.
Dare I say at times I suspect they are just digging for gold,
and deserve a darn good slapping for the porkies they have told.
I can't afford the risk of getting my vote badly wrong
by some bloke who seems could charm the skin off a snake when the gong
rings out there for the faithful - to the hustings all must go,
where a gaggle of two legged geese are gavelled start to whoa
to maintain some kind of order, to give credence to their words ...
to my mind a bloody chook house and a commotion of birds,
as is heard when the sly fox enters within to kill the weak.
Give me strength, and please forbearance, when I hear a Pollie speak.