The Headmistress in Chief has called
for an egg and spoon race–
once around the church,
and a circuit of the village green.
She is confident of course,
that she will easily win,
her grace and favour spoon
being much bigger than
anyone else’s. No doubt she will
double-lap her main opponent,
the Warden-in-Charge of the Home for Young
who’d fair better in a three-legged race
(more support) and also
Mr Moaner-Remainer, owner of the
with that eye-gouging yellow awning
will be a non-starter,
as in her opinion no-one ever buys
his flaky croissants.
(She wished she didn’t have to arrange all this
and simply go for a power grab like
that canny Mr Erdogan–but never mind).
She is already planning her victory tea,
baking with her own fair hands
a special batch of Brexit scones,
each as solid as the Gibraltar Rock,
and guaranteed to be at least three days old.