The Prime Minister’s Conference speech
What’s needed to get through this Brexit business is some good old fashioned public school resolve
The deep baritone of Boris, the Epicurean, is counterposed by the chorus of Theresa, the Stoic
Latin. The hollow tedium
of a gloomy afternoon.
Later, mummy would arrive
and take me home for half-term.
I didn't miss my family at all.
Why would you? The best days lie ahead of us.
We had tea with nanny on Sunday.
As usual, daddy was not there.
He was doing some business abroad.
The next day, I went back to school.
I wasn’t disappointed. Why would I be?
Of course not. The best days lie ahead of us.
Bread sliced thin. Fish paste
like the memory of some lost sea
Cold mornings in the gym
the horse, like a blank wall
was high enough to challenge Odysseus.
It would be. The best days lie ahead of us.
They sent me there because one
should tested by adversity.
How else can a man show his mettle
than on the playing field or in battle
on the Somme or at Mycenae?
I agree. The best days lie ahead of us.
The team played badly
but in the fading light
from defeat snatched a sudden victory.
The sand of the desert is sodden red.
Brave Horatius guards the bridge.
Undaunted. The best days lie ahead of us.
The'yre sending me home next term
The house has been sold as mummy
is no match for our creditors.
Perhaps, one day, daddy will return
Be brave little man. The best days lie ahead of us
No comments:
Post a Comment