Wrestling Shadows

Willy, Georgy, and B

left office with some glee,

well rested, battle tested,

as free as free can be.

(Not to mention wealthy.)

They'd gathered around,

discussed Brexit and pound,

and listened to a Trumpet.

For all that I could tell,

with the Choir their hearts did swell.

Well guarded one and all

Well fed before each ball,

their favorite stores to tell.

But now a brand new day

has seen them on their way

to palms with springs

and peanut things

and duties quite serene,

they'll rock and stare

at vistas rare,

while Trumpets far will scream.

The brand new tenants

will fly their pennants,

their glory days are here.

And gathered around,

while peeping no sound,

are sycophants* old and dear.

In haunted halls

with crimson walls

blood-spattered from before,

they now must rule

or play the fool,

behind that White House door.

* sycophant: a person who praises powerful people in order to get their approval

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© 2017 Demas W. Jasper All rights reserved.