Still More Auguries

The Climate Monkey

The climate monkey was a willing flunkey

Born and bred in the jungle

He lost his home and was forced to roam

Because of a human bungle

They cut down all the trees you see

Turned his birthplace into a hovel

Left him no choice in the end but to flee

To civilisation and grovel

He found himself at the big end of town

Where he caused quite a stir

He bought a few stocks that were not on the rocks

And became an entrepreneur

O how things changed as his life rearranged

Vast earnings caused some commotion

He fouled the air dug up the ground

And even polluted the ocean

The money came in and made him grin

As he tallied his wealth with hilarity 

He felt guilty at times over global warming

So he gave a few funds to charity

As the years passed his status rose fast

With the money flowing in

But science decreed with invincible force

That nature in the end will win

So the storms came to wreck the world

And wildfire scorched many lands

Droughts set in and the oceans rose

Many thousands wrung their hands

The end was swift as the stock market crashed

And the globe plunged into depression

The jungle dweller still posed as rich

But this was a false impression

In fact he lost status through the climate hiatus

And no longer appeared in Who’s Who

You can find him now if you wish to observe him

In a cage at the London Zoo

The Lost Garden

It was a lovely quiet place

With shadowy comfort of peace

Discourse with birds was a daily thing

Conversations that never cease

Ferns and trees made a sanctuary there

As a refuge from the sun

Which filtered through the leaves in a friendly way

Until each day was done

In that haven I came to life

Sheltered from my strife torn days

I found time to think where the flowers grew

Found a reason to sing life’s praise

It’s gone from me now that garden

Torn apart by violent hands

Turned into the harsh emptiness

That so called progress demands

They tore it down at the will of the planners

In the quest for an empty space

Fear of trees is a common thing

A scourge of the human race

Each day is a eulogy for me now

That garden I sadly miss

Nowhere to go when life deals a blow

No choice but to reminisce

That I will do in my dying days

As I gently think of past glory

I am weak with no power to change this world

But at least I can tell my story 

The Distinguished Liar

He was a pro always on the go

Lies flowed from his lips as palaver

There was no match for his lying tongue

From Timbuktu to Java

He made his pile using lots of guile

Telling many a falsehood that waxes

While the money rolled in, as a cardinal sin

He never paid any taxes

His white lies weren’t little in fact they would whittle

The barriers to undeserved wealth

He surprised his rivals with sudden arrivals

And then shared a cut of their pelf

One thing above all with tales that are tall

You need fools who are willing to believe ‘em

This was no problem as he found lots of ways

To mislead and cheat and deceive ‘em

Now he didn’t stop till he rose to the top

As a master of deception

His political friends swept away by ill trends

Gave him wide-eyed reception

Thus if you walked by seeking to pry

And said, “Take me to your leader.”

You would meet our liar with spirits afire

Perched in a tower of cedar

It is there he might say in his usual way

That election was riddled with fraud

Whereupon you’ll retort if you are not a fool,

“You deserve an Academy Award.”

But the liar rules on at the top of his world

Noted for an absence of proof

Wise ones will finally cast him aside

Such is the power of truth

A Last Hurrah

Once upon a time in Brobdingnag

An election was dutifully held

To give a winner a leader’s tag

‘Twas a time for all to meld

A contest between one opponent who was always right

And another who slept very well every single night

The contestants greatly differed from each other

One was a show-off – a virtual rooster’s brother,

Dim-witted, loud-mouthed, with an epithet caper

Writing silly sayings on little bits of paper

The other was a placid chicken who very quietly spoke

Only when spoken to and smiled at every joke

Election day soon came along: a busy time in the land

With electors voting to the sound of a big brass band

There were greater voting numbers than were known before

The rooster’s fans were fanatically loyal to the very core

They danced the while a loyal jig to honour their flamboyant Nero

The chicken on the other hand was definitely no hero

These two aggressive rivals fought to the very last letter

The aim of the dire struggle was to decide the better

The question at hand was to find a functioning booster

Who would come first, the chicken or the rooster?

When voting was done and counting begun

Tension infected the people as one

At first count the rooster was far ahead of his rival

But slowly the chicken’s score ensured his survival

At last a victor was declared and the chicken rejoiced at his feat

But what of the mind of the rooster? How did he take defeat?

“Election fraud! Election fraud! Election fraud!” he cried, “I am still the winner.”

“The one who now claims victory is in fact a sinner.”

“Justice has been miscarried; I should be still on top.”

“Millions of votes have been counted that don’t have a bloody full stop.”

So a riot took place and then six recounts of votes – aha!

The chicken triumphed, the winner, at the rooster’s last hurrah

Storm

Terror in the night lightning alight

Winds tearing down the trees

Dog in the garden shaking in fright

Rescuer down on his knees

Saving a man under falling arches

Taking his fading breath

Who can tell where destiny marches?

Will the next blast cause my death?

As the politician unperturbed on the whole

Holds up a lump of coal

***

Terror in the day cyclone at play

Ocean wild with rage

Beaches completely washed away

Twelve people drowned at this stage

Buildings collapse around me

The noise molests my ears

Destruction is an anguish for all to see

Nothing will quell my fears

As the politician unperturbed on the whole

Holds up a lump of coal

***

Terror in the morning wildfire burning

The forest a holocaust

Trees afire anguish returning

Plans to flee enforced

Koalas dying in the flames

Other creatures meet their doom

Houses become mere insurance claims

Funeral flowers in full bloom

As the politician unperturbed on the whole

Holds up a lump of coal

royciebaby

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