The land of total rhubarb

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Welcome to the sunlit uplands

of total rhubarb, England's 

fastest growing cash crop.

(Too bad there's no one left to pick it). 

 

Fertilised by inverted pyramids

of piffle, or should that be 

de Pfeffel? Where Afghan hounds

matter more than Afghans. 

 

And talking of animals, did even

the Cheshire Cat wear 

such a self-satisfied smirk? 

As tourists flock to Barnard Castle

 

our resistance is low, 

weakened by revelations

of parties, lies, chicanery.

It's getting desperate.

 

Our only hope of rescue

is a lone ranger,

or failing that,

someone called Sue Gray.  

 

Let's console ourselves. Not

with cake but pudding:

rhubarb with orange and ginger

in a crumble or a fool. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

◄ The end of the line

Rehab ►

Comments

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Greg Freeman

Sun 30th Jan 2022 20:11

Thanks, Stephen. I must admit, I have no idea how to pronounce 'de Pfeffel'. And thanks for the Like, Stephen A.

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Stephen Gospage

Sun 30th Jan 2022 17:39

I enjoyed this one, Greg, particularly the coupling of piffle and de Pfeffel. I recently saw a performance of the Stephen Sondheim song 'I'm still here'. In this case the question is 'How?'.

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Greg Freeman

Sat 29th Jan 2022 08:33

Many thanks for the support, Julian. I felt obliged to add a consoling additional stanza later, extolling the joys of rhubarb crumble or fool. And thanks for the Likes, Kevin and Holden.

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Julian Summerhayes

Fri 28th Jan 2022 09:20

Thanks for sharing Greg.

I'm not sure my resistance is meagre enough not to shout my distaste and disdain for this bunch of nitwits, headed up by Mr Shopping Trolley himself.

Keep the faith -- for now at least.

Take care, Julian

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