Westminster Hall: Tut-Tut
Sir, ‘tis a letter for your eyes only, oddly, ‘tis a brown envelope used?”
—“Pray tell, why did you say, oddly, madame?”
“It hails from the palace, a place of dignity, but to forward itself a respite with commonality, breeds a different sort.”
—“Ah! That explains that (holding the unopened envelope in his hand raised), for across our channel is abuzz, as war wreaks havoc beyond our shores, I beg that I be naught caught by any challenges, as an announcing envelope may hail an affront at my very doorsteps. Plainly, it draws none to wonder, for it lacks interest for the few who seek cover from our English weather, their ruse.“
“Really, here in England!”
—”That madman is naught an idiot, but diabolical. Give him no measure, for he’ll want more without end, for that’s his intent. Our nation has long been at risk, and I fear that the contents of this envelope may ripen our unsheathed souls to hail victory in its due course.”
“I dislike war.”
—”Madame, it's naught the matter of ‘dislike or like’, nevertheless, it’s a matter of our very survival that will purpose our furtherance of our ‘likes or dislikes’, their proper argument to entertain our future.”
“Maybe, the palace seeks peace.”
—”If it be so, then I challenge that ‘word’ with its homonym from that madman, with due respect, madame.”
“Well, open it, sir, for the king awaits—I trust—for an answer?”
—”Very well, tut-tut. Hm, I’m asked to be the next Prime Minister!”
“Oh my, and what of Chamberlin?”
—”He will probably be a thorn in my rose; unfortunately, it is rumored, yet prepared will I be, to exchange it with a lily. Well, I am off to the palace and there will I see that purplish king, or brown if it be so hush-hush.”
Copyright ©
Hilo Poet
|