HE’LL BE A POLITICIAN YET
With flowing scarf and green rosette
he stood upon the parapet
above the stir with strident lure
he saw where wealth did not endure
amongst the mass of human welter
there his eye across the spectra
scanned the view unfurled below
and from each roof and portico
the fluttering flags of white and green
framed the heaving unkempt scene
where shabby idlers stood and heard
his every slogan, every word.
With flowing scarf and green rosette
he’ll be a politician yet.