Category Archives: Brexit

Theresa May, Boris Johnson, Donald Trump all set to collide in an uneasy meeting of the minds.

Hands Off.

Poor Theresa May is finding this leaving lark tough,
Trump is coming a’calling just when Boris calls her bluff,
Boris’ untimely and boorish approach she should rebuff-
She ain’t no bloody Boadicea, but she’s made of stern stuff-
But she is oh so tempted to hand it to that tousle-haired scruff.

Let Bo take the tiny hand that slithers from the silken cuff,
A pedicured pampered hand, yet a touch… course and rough,
Let them bond over common interests; trade, markets, dandruff?
But Tess does know one red white and blue bastard is quite enough,
So she’ll smile, lie and try to think of England and not stalk off in a huff.

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Awash with spatters of red, blue bloods running around in horror- Parliament Movies presents- ‘Fright Night’ in gorious Technicolor! See- Theresa May look aghast! Hear- the screams of battered backbenchers! Feel the angst!

Fright Night.

The sun rose bold and bright
After Great Britain’s polling day,
But all was not sweetness and light
In the Household of Theresa May.

As the race closed, Tess’s face pinched tight
when she saw the vote wasn’t going her way,
This poor PM looked a sad and sorry sight;
Ms May looked the very personification of dismay.

But who can she blame for her present plight?
Her once sunny future is looking grimly grey,
Who turned out to prove she was wrong- and Right?
Those Left, the hoi poloi, Corbyn’s oh-so common clay.

Sour Note.

David Camerons strange exit strategy…
A smile, a so-long AND a song.

Leaving On A Sour Note.

David stands outside Number Tens dark door,
Strange how it doesn’t feel like home any more,
But since the vote didn’t go his way he won’t stay,
He won’t be overstaying his welcome, come what May.

His farewell speech all said and done
He savours one last moment in the sun,
Yet in his breast he finds he feels not grief
But a burgeoning sense of welcome relief.

He didn’t know he was already ready to depart,
He walks away, a spring in his step, a song in his heart,
Unburdened at last, it’s a jaunty tune that he’s humming;
But really David, ‘Anarchy In The UK’ is most unbecoming.

Nigel Farage, exit stage right…

Far Go.

The time has come to go, says Nigel Farage,
Time to leave someone else in charge,
Someone who, like him, thinks Right,
Who see’s a future blindingly whitely bright.

He’s stepping aside having done all he wants to do,
Going to leave behind the likes of me and EU,
As he leaps off his soapbox with gay abandon
He’s bound to find a few new toes to stand on.