Monday, September 22, 2008

Borough matters not

There was a mayor, now dead and gone

Who many thought should have a gong.

Then one day to the borough came

A man who had so little shame.

He wanted much to be town clerk

But from his past he could not depart.

Wiley man, he knew the mayor

Also had misdeeds that brought despair.

Their pasts, they agreed, would forever remain

Each others secret so both would gain.

The mayor departed without his gong

The man, he worked and sang his song.

Many an oldie had their garden done

The hand of the new mayor he had won.

But when the residents complained

That the town clerk had mucked up again

And to the new mayor went with tales

She simply promised, smiled, but no betrayls.

Then election time it came

And a new would-be-mayor took the reign.

He promised to keep the borough free

Of interference from the powers that be.

But he had not reckoned upon wiser counsel

That he discovered would dispatch his council.

He left in a hurry for he could not curry

The favour of all of those who were in a flurry.

And then the day came when the borough went

To its great big neighbour, its day spent.

The town clerk too, until it transpired

He was now only a minion and retired.

He went over the hill where the grass grew green

At least for the town clerk, for he had seen

A widow with a bigger pile

And the old new mayor became a file.

She left with hurt and her poetry skills

While the erstwhile town clerk enjoyed his frills.

Then suddenly he became quite sickly

And judgement day came all too quickly.

There is no moral to this story

Merely opportunity to be observatory.

No comments: