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by Nevada Kerr

One day daddy planted a seed
Relying on the perfect pedigree
But the titled blood turned out to be
A master clod of low degree
A boob named George
Who ducked and dodged
Every challenge thrown his way

It doesn't take long to grasp the trick
Of how to twist a fickle truth
Or pass the buck and take the fifth
In this maze of tangled roots
That feed the blather of the evening news

When things go wrong he calls his pop
Who calls on God to lead the way
Through the wilderness, toward a burning bush
Pledging miracles for cheers and praise

In the prickly thicket where he hides
Behind a looming family tree
Whose shade benights the public eye
The stunted hedger cheats and lies
He never learned the ABC's
Of honesty or subtlety

Written by © Raven Drake
September 3, 2005.

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Created: October 2005 © Paul Kinder Last Updated: 19/10/05