If Jack and Jill
Went up a hill
Today
What would people say?
Is the hill
A metaphor
For the stair
Where
Jack and Jill …
Or nothing more
Than a plain, old hill?
Did Jill
Push Jack
Down that Hill?
And did he,
Fighting back
Bring that she
(Known as Jill)
Tumbling,
Their hands fumbling,
Down that Hill?
Should the Old Bill
Investigate?
Perhaps a date
Went wrong? But no, tis a crime
To spoil a children’s nursery rhyme!
There was a young diplomat called Guy
Who would never knowingly lie.
The ambassador Ruth
Fudged the truth
Which made that young man cry!
There was a young diplomat called Guy
Who would never knowingly lie.
The ambassador Ruth
Thought him uncouth
And rolled her one good eye!
“Oh maiden chaste
Why do you haste
To yonder well?
I have heard tell
That a girl there fell.
Come with me instead
And admire
This bed
Of sweetbriar.
Dear Bess
That dress is too tight.
Come feel the delight
Of night
Air
On skin bare”.
“Sir
Having water to get
I truly regret
That I
Have no time to lie
In sweetbriar,
Though, where the ground not wet
I would fulfill your desire …”.
There was a young lady called Hocking
Who lost many a silk stocking.
Her boyfriend, named Hogg
Ran an erotic blog,
Believe me, it really was shocking!
“Most Conservatives for most of the time have wished to keep things as they are and believe along with the Duke of Cambridge that the time for change is when it can no longer be resisted”.
(Lord Robert Blake, “The Conservative Party from Peel to Churchill” p271).
I was reminded of Blake’s highly readable work, when I came across this article by Ryan Bourne of the libertarian Cato Institute, https://capx.co/why-are-some-conservatives-so-obsessed-with-libertarians/. Bourne’s piece also brought to mind my own poem, “Conservatism”, which is reproduced below:
Conservatism is a scepticism regarding what some call “progress”
Coupled with a desire to redress
Genuine grievances, lest the great wall
Crumble and fall
Crushing all.
Conservatism is men who
Wish the clock
Would stop
At half-past 2
But know that this man can not do.
While the reactionary believes that one can rewind the clock
And it’s hands lock
At some frozen place
In time and space.
Conservatism is scepticism about equality
For the Conservative does see
That each tree
Is different. but the forest has a heart
And we are all part
Of an organic whole
With each being possessed of his own unique soul.
Some say
That the Conservative way
Is an obsession with the bottom line
And that selfishness does Conservatism define.
Others maintain
That economics is an obsession of the Classical Liberal’s brain
And that the liberal interloper
Should slope away.
Conservatism is walks in country parks
As the larks
Twitter high above.
It is a love
Of old friends
Who are not means to ends.
It is a desire to enjoy
And not to destroy.
The ship must be kept on an even keel
Lest we into anarchy reel.
Yet some say
That today
Many Conservatives do not behave that way …
To fulfil
My need
To feed
I eat the orange that will
Not seed
And throw the pips away.
But stay,
Is it need
Or greed
That causes me to feed?
A place
Of quietude
Where few intrude.
Yet a trace
Of perfume
Has been known
To linger in the room,
On the lone
Sheet,
Where strangers rarely meet
There was a young lady called Lin
Who lived in my wastepaper bin.
I said, with a smile
“Will you stay there a while”,
But she left for my biscuit tin!
There was a young lady called Lin
Who lived in my wastepaper bin.
Being rather witty
And extremely pretty
She led me into sin!
There was a young lady called Lin
Who lived in my wastepaper bin.
When I said, “are you okay?”
She replied “I like it this way”,
That strange young lady called Lin!
There was a young lady called Lin
Who lived in my wastepaper bin.
She made her escape
In a bright red cape
As its better out than in!
To and fro
Through the churchyard I go
One day I know
That it will not be so.
Why should I care?
For I will not be there
To know.
There was a young poet called Mo
Who’s work I happen to know.
His poems where so bad
That they drove me quite mad,
So I buried Mo in the snow!
K Morris - Poet 