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.
© J Cosmo Newbery 2014

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  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!

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

  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.. ;)

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

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


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

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

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

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

  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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