I usually avoid politics, mostly because I dislike organised political parties – no one party ever has the policies that I want to endorse. It makes voting a really tough ask, but hey ho, that’s life.
However, and with apologies to anyone reading this who is not both British and interested in the Westminsterly machinations, the latest Cabinet reshuffle inspired (hmm, is that the right word? Drove? Or infected?) me so much that this little sonnet popped out.
Sleight of Hand
I woke to the news of Cameron’s reshuffle
which, to be honest, was all rather vague;
That was, until it was goodbye to Hague,
Soon followed by an awful kerfuffle.
I wondered ‘What now?’ Long grass, IDS?
Though the headlines were filled with retiring Ken Clark
‘I’m old, seventy four, the choices are stark’
It all seemed so random – a bit of a mess.
By lunchtime it seemed the worst was ove – r –
And, let’s face it, none sane would gnash and wail
At the overdue end of those stale pale males –
But wait! What’s this? A new role for Gove?
It’s mad – the world has turned on its head.
So surely that means the next PM’s Ed?