Poem 21B: In praise of Hannibal’s elephants

Phoebe was stuck on her doctoral thesis.
“This,” said she, “will be my nemesis.”
So her tutor told her to study something relevant,
Such as “The Feminine Side of Hannibal’s Elephants”.

Well this thesis got her a summa cum laude
(She was not one to hide her talents under a shroud, eh?)
It was a marvellous masculine presumption to derail:
Proving that not all of Hannibal’s elephants were male.

Females are tough; females are strong;
Those who think only menfolk are robust have got it all wrong.
Hannibal couldn’t have crossed over the Alps
Without the aid of non-male pachyderm helps.

Phoebe took up a lectureship
As a result of studying elephant bits.
She discourses full time in Women’s Studies,
Teaching men how to be emotionally honest with their buddies.

There’s a wealth of inquiry waiting to be done.
Phoebe’s next article has already begun;
She researches you see, as well as teaches,
So she’s writing a paper on “Feminine Endings in Churchill’s Speeches”.

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.

Poem 21A: Ballad of a political candidate

(Feel free to name whatever political candidate you wish.)

I make no excuses for such cheap rhythm and rhyme
It seems that the cheapness most suits the crime.
As the chicken exclaimed when the world it first saw:
Cheap! Cheap! Cheap! Cheap! And it don’t say no more.

Now surrounded with elegance, wit, and all that,
Jackie, the idol of America,
sat.

The honour of being the first among ladies
meant she could have all the president’s
babies.

Most thought it sweet that she should beget;
some thought the political method was
wet.

But with a hole in the neck and one in the head
the handsome prince fell and died – not in
bed.

The dead one became an immediate saint
and the whole fairy story became rather
quaint.

But brushing away all the sackcloth and ashes
Jackie got up and ran to
Onassis.

Before one could blink there were rumours afoot;
conspiracies abounded and published in
books.

Who pulled the trigger? Who aimed the gun?
Was it three? Was it two? Maybe just
one?

The truth is quite simple and ne’er before heard,
though some people think the inference
absurd.

I’d like to suggest that Hillary done it.
She wants the top job and shoots for the
fun of it.

I make no excuses for such cheap rhythm and rhyme
It seems that the cheapness most suits the crime.
As the chicken exclaimed when the world it first saw:
Cheap! Cheap! Cheap! Cheap! And it don’t say no more.

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.