Friday, February 28, 2014

686 : The Silver Trough.

Three Word Wednesday requires participants
to use the three words of the week in a composition.
The words this week were: aspire, beast and slurp.

The Silver Trough.

When they first aspire to govern,
Bright-eyed and oh-so keen,
I believe they feel a calling,
‘Til they meet the party machine.
It kills
Any urge to cure our ills
It’s appalling—
The faithful, I know, will scoff, 
But the beasts patrol the coven
And slurp from the silver trough.
.
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© J Cosmo Newbery 2014
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12 comments:

  1. We all seek to cure our ills, but some cure them in worse ways than others...doing it in the party machine might not be the greatest option out there, I would rather deal with the ills and cure them via. more peaceful ways...great poem!

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  2. Yes the party seems to kill the dream Great write!

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  3. I like the parting image..beasts indeed..i guess it takes a strong will not to be swayed..a radical in PJ's maybe.. ;)

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  4. And having slurped their fill, say that there isn't enough and that everyone (else) needs to tighten their belts.

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  5. What can one expect of politicians! They padded their own skin before anything else! Nicely Cosmo!

    Hank

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  6. it's amazing...the transformation they undergo...a sham really...I like the ending, I can picture them there at the trough.

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  7. An interesting form with those short lines in the middle.

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    Replies
    1. A Herrick's Stanza, more or less.

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  8. This is true. Once again you've nailed it!

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  9. it makes me really wonder what the heck do they really do...???

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  10. Slurping from the silver trough is true enough. Some of them do nothing and get a fat pension for life after 5 years ( I think)

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