OH YES YOU DID!

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It is reported that Jean Claude Juncker called Mrs May ‘nebulous’ and she took exception to it, perhaps the first time she has disagreed with him in the past two years?

The panto season’s in full swing,
With all the laughter it will bring,
And people flock from everywhere,
So of the jokes they’ll get their share.

The actors on the stage can be,
Celebrities we often see,
And others who are hard to tell,
Because they are not known so well.

But it’s unusual, I’d say,
That people like Theresa May,
And Jean Claude Juncker (who is he?),
Are there in pantomimes to see.

So now these two, not so well-known,
Decided to put on their own,
And as reported here in rhymes,
They knew the famous panto lines.

“You called me nebulous,” said she,
“A poor description, that, of me,
For you should listen with your ear,
That I have been so very clear!”

“Oh no I didn’t,” he replied,
Putting his glass of wine aside,
“The words I used were rather few,
And they were not describing you.”

“Oh yes you did,” she answered back,
“So do not try now to change tack;
Your words were broadcast on TV,
And certainly were aimed at me.”

They argued, was it ‘no’ or ‘yes’,
Then later Juncker told the Press,
That they had since kissed and made up,
But now he had his wine to sup.

And that was it till Mrs May,
When speaking later in the day,
Said that she wasn’t all that fussed,
For their discussion was robust,
And it would not be her death knell,
Because they work together well.

On this last point who would have guessed,
That these were good friends, even best,
But Mrs May would say, I fear,
That she has made it very clear!

EU VERSUS THE VOTERS

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It is reported that, with the expected failure of Mrs May’s ‘only plan on offer” vote in the Commons, perhaps democracy is about to stage a comeback.

The EU constantly has said:
“The only deal is what you’ve read,
So take or leave, it’s time to choose,
Whichever way, you’re sure to lose.

There can be no change, that’s for sure,
And the agreements will endure,
For many years and till, perhaps,
One of the parties does collapse.

We know your MPs will all vote,
But, really, they have missed the boat;
It matters little what they say,
For we will always get our way.

Democracy is for the birds,
It’s just the speaking of fine words,
But it means nothing now that you,
Are up against us, the EU.

In this regard we have got form,
Now destined to become the norm;
We crushed the Greeks when they’d no cash,
Because their spending was too rash.

The Greeks, as you know, did invent,
Democracy and Parliament,
But that’s of no concern to us,
Although it might give you a buzz.

And now it’s your turn, it makes sense,
Since you’re Mother of Parliaments,
So when we’re done, we prophesy,
No-one will cross us, even try!

So we’ll consolidate our role,
Which is to be in full control,
Of all things European and,
Democracy will soon be canned!”

MAY DAY, MAY DAY

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It is reported that Theresa May has lost control of everything in the whole wide world.

So what to make of Mrs May?
It seems, at last, she’s lost her way,
With enemies and more than most,
Expecting she will soon be toast.

That’s not the toast with glass and wine,
Though such a one would be just fine,
It is the one she ought to dread –
I mean the one with half burnt bread.

She’s lost control but carries on,
Insisting that her duty’s done,
And she to no-one else defers –
The only option now is hers.

One must admire her steely grit,
And motto: ‘Just get on with it’;
A lesser person might have tried,
But with the stress not have survived.

The problem is most don’t agree,
Including, this occasion, me;
To be pragmatic can seem strong,
But not if you’re completely wrong.

How this will end, nobody knows,
Depends, p’rhaps, if she stays or goes,
But when somebody else steps in,
I’d recommend a large, stiff gin!

BOB

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It is reported that Theresa May is relying on people’s boredom to get her Brexit deal through the House of Commons; she now keeps telling everybody repeatedly that they are Bored of Brexit (BOB) and just want a deal – any deal – done.

Six hundred pages, start to end,
Which Mrs May must now defend;
It’s long enough to make you sob,
Because you’re now a man called BOB,

BOB’s not been mentioned anywhere,
There is no doubt he’s not been there,
And that’s because he’s only just,
Invented to reduce the fuss.

BOB, you’ve now realised, is bored,
And May hopes this will strike a chord,
With other people who’ll be BOBs,
Some of them bright but others slobs.

So now it’s clear she has a plan:
To make us nod off if she can,
And then while we’re all comatose,
She’ll tell us all that nasty prose,
Is detail and it matters not,
Because agreement she has got.

She’ll shout it everywhere she goes,
As said before, in mostly prose,
But I expect if she has time,
She might repeat it all in rhyme,
And then it could be even worse,
To hear the whole lot said in verse.

But her approach, beyond the pale,
Is pretty likely doomed to fail,
For last time she found to her cost,
She went and the election lost.

And this time it seems odd to note,
The people who on this will vote,
Are not the likes of you and me,
But rather six hundred MPs.

It’s likely they will not be BOBs,
For though they sometimes sleep like logs,
They could each other Brexit teach,
By reading only one page each!

MAY BE OR NOT MAY BE?

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It is reported that Theresa May may be deposed over the bad Brexit deal she has negotiated.

It always was a great big ask,
And more than that a thankless task,
But Mrs May stuck at it and,
Came up with words a bit too Grand,
Whereas the substance of the deal,
Was really lacking in appeal.

So people there on every side,
Have given it a berth so wide,
That like a baby not so old,
The thing was left for her to hold.

The stamina and fortitude,
With which she is so well imbued,
To date have helped her get this far,
But all the indications are,
That this agreement on the whole,
Is first and foremost an own goal.

And it’s not as has been portrayed:
For one thing its new terms of trade,
Are worse than now, we soon will learn,
Which will make some quite taciturn.

It suits no-one, I think, and so,
It’s time for Mrs May to go,
Her stamina, I’d like to say,
Might help her take the thing away!
(You’ve heard of this ad nauseam –
It weighs more than a kilogram.)

But then what? We will have to see,
Like Tom and Dick to name but three,
And though some will most likely scoff,
We could just call the whole thing off!

Image – DonkeyHotey/Flickr

WHAT A DAY!

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It is reported that Mrs May is battling to get her Brexit plan accepted by MPs while all around her ministers are resigning.

Oh what a day for Mrs May!
Three people have resigned today,
And that is up till half past four,
Which means there is still time for more.

It’s all about the Brexit Bill,
Which if you read might make you ill,
For it’s five hundred pages long,
And everybody thinks it’s wrong.

You will not be surprised to learn,
That I, myself, too little earn,
To reproduce or summarise,
This document before your eyes.

And so you’ll have to take my word:
This situation is absurd,
And how the whole thing will now go,
Is quite impossible to know.

We’ll therefore have to wait and see,
What outcome to this there might be,
And hopefully it will be clear,
What in the Bill we ought to fear.

We have been in dispute before,
With mainland Europe (in the war),
But what we can say, I suppose,
Is this day’s not as bad as those,
I mention now hereinbefore,
Back there in 1944.

So don’t cheer up but read the news,
Expressing other people’s views,
You’re not in Corporal Jones’ platoon,
But do prepare to panic soon!

Image – DonkeyHotey/Flickr

STRICTLY DANCING – OR NOT

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It is reported that a pair of dancers on Strictly Come Dancing were spotted snogging outside a London pub, Theresa May danced before a speech in Birmingham, Nicola Sturgeon couldn’t dance in her super high heels in Glasgow and Jean-Claude Juncker tried to copy Mrs May in Brussels.

To dance is good, most people say,
It keeps you fit from day to day,
It’s best to do it to a song,
But on occasions it goes wrong.

I don’t mean technical mistakes,
The sort that might require two takes,
Like when Ed Balls, who’s not a bore,
Almost dropped Ms Jones on the floor.

This Mrs Jones of whom I speak,
Is in the news again this week,
But not for dancing, I’m afraid,
Which is the reason she gets paid.

No, this time, as told in this blog,
She was partaking in a snog,
With her dance partner on TV –
You don’t get paid for that – it’s free.

But what now of our Mrs May?
You thought that she had feet of clay,
But then she danced before her talk –
She should have been advised to walk.

Her dancing, though, went down a treat,
Surprising, for with two left feet,
It wasn’t good, but p’rhaps it made,
The lady look a bit less staid.

And then a few days farther on,
We saw Miss SNP Sturgeon,
Before her conference’s talk,
In heels so high she couldn’t walk.

“I’m wearing these,” she said, “So that,
I look more tall than if they’re flat;
But really, it’s so there’s no chance,
That I could ever try to dance.”

And finally, the Juncker man,
Who tries in every way he can,
To cause embarrassment by day,
Especially to Mrs May.

He claims that was not what he did,
His footwork was indeed splendid,
Because he’d had a drop to drink,
And she had not, I like to think.

That takes us now full circle for,
The first and last were drinking more
Than might be wise, depending how,
They want to be perceived for now.

So if you dance do take great care,
For bits might end up on the air,
And if they do, you can be sure,
That pictures will be more, not fewer!