The Continental Dogs Breakfast.
If I may say, I saw a sad picture in the news,
This Ms. May, I wouldn’t wish to be in her shoes,
Standing, down, a teardrop trickling from her eye,
The poor choked-up about to be ex-PM says bye-bye.
She gave it her diplomatic best
But her eloquence less than impressed;
Those long impassioned speeches she made,
Until told her welcome’s been long overstayed.
As Theresa turns her back on Number Ten
Ruing that she cannot be all things to all men
She shoulders her heavy baggage and I do believe
At last, friends and neighbors, Theresa’s going to leave.
No more trying on duplicitous deals,
No more clickety-clackety high heels,
No Theresa power walking Parliaments halls,
May has gone, and briefly, blessed silence falls.
A moment of contemplation as Tess departs,
Then the fighting for the Tory leadership starts,
What worthy will fill the shoes of the old dame?
Could another bouffanted blonde stake his claim?