Rising Damp

by

J D Cully

When she stood upon the soapbox
England clean and England strong
We railed at her, some laughed at her
With her small army marching on
Now as the masquerade is cancelled
Rigsby takes the stage instead
She's pooped the party one last time
Lay, Lady Jay, across my bed

The President's wife is missing
On a liner she did go
But whose arms is she sailing to?
Is it Brian? Now we won't know
For no web sites give the answer
None revives the memory
Forget the brain and the walnut whole
And just send her to me

Sweet Louise, pray tell me
For when I was twelve years old
You were goddess of my Sunday nights
A satiric woman of gold
Sweet Louise, do you remember
The words you made her say?
End my despair and bring a kiss
Upon your West End play

NEXT?
Why don't you look at The Questioning Part
by: Egal Bohen
from: Cornwall, England, UK

To visit all of J D Cully's poems, click HERE

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