Sugar
 
I’ve always called her “Sugar”. Now they say
That sugar’s worse than saturated fat,
And so I changed the epithet – but, hey!
Why did she hit me with a baseball bat?



My name is May, a tough old boot,
And Maggie T. seems almost cute
Compared to me. Now England’s goose
Is cooked at last, I squeeze the juice.
 

 
I’m Vladimir; I’ll crush dissent
Now I’ve become your President.
You thought that it was Trump? Oh, no,
He’s just my toy - I run the show.



The one that didn't get away

The voters were sniffing the bait;
It was putrid and rotten, a stinker.
"Don't touch it!" I cried, but too late -
They had swallowed it hook, line and sinker.



Brian Allgar

If you have any comments on these poems,  Brian Allgar   would be pleased to hear from you.