by Benedict Lister
Oh happy times, oh glorious spring!
Electioneering is in full swing,
The politicians bleat and bray
As out they trot to have their say!
Look! A spaniel, nice Nick Clegg,
Trained when to bark and how to beg.
Freed from the leash, he whines and yaps
‘Take me back in! I don't mind scraps!’
Here’s a Sturgeon from the Clyde,
That failed to make the great divide.
"I'll do a deal and spawn a stash
Of caviar - with Labour cash!"
And there’s that donkey, Milliband,
Hee-hawing up and down the sand.
‘Free rides for all, sit down! Relax!
I’ll kick the rich with a mansion tax!’
Now comes a chortling pig from Kent,
Who feeds on beer and discontent,
Who grunts and chunters badinage:
You hear that bleating lamb, Leanne,
‘Freedom for Wales!' Or some such plan.
Of course she knows it won't come true,
It's what they call 'the long-term view'.
Up in a tree chirps Natalie,
As Green a finch as there could be,
Whose tweets are drowned by bigger birds,
Unless, of course, she’s lost for words.
And there in Ulster by the sea,
A happy walrus claps with glee,
Now Robinson can bask and gloat,
They’ll feed him well to buy his vote.
And yet perhaps I ought to finish,
With that sullen albatross McGuiness,
The Commons such proud birds disdain,
To roost alone and squawk 'Sinn Fein!'
Last Cameron, no humble steed,
A thoroughbred, the Eton breed,
Alas, he lacks the common touch.
‘A brighter future?’ - well, not much!
All hail, ye leaders! Raise a toast
To those we love to hate the most!
And if their promises are lame,
We only have ourselves to blame.
We’d sooner feed on hopes than fears,
And count the cost in future years.
This is fantastic.
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