Comment: The Weekly Muse

A change of wind, some icy rain,

The blossom perished on the tree,

Dame Winter out of bed again -

The mean old crone won't let you be.

With all this trouble in the world,

Diplomacy in disarray,

Disastrous and discordant times

When all that we can do is pray,

There comes a diamond from the dung,

A ray of hope to light our way,

And this week's gleaming beacon is

Prince William's finger. It's OK!

Since fractured in a rugby match

The digit hadn't been quite right,

But thanks to recent surgery

The world can sleep again at night -

Apart from minor niggles like

The people with no food to eat,

The climate changes, various wars,

Oh yes, and Margaret's scalded feet.

A scheduled flight, a train, a cab -

He walks the rest to Number 10.

Who is this brand-new Euro-broom

That sweeps as cheap as normal men

And spurns the chauffeured limo where

His erstwhile colleagues liked to sit?

Romano Prodi - crazy name.

It's not the last we'll hear of it.

Feng shui for dogs? We learn this week

Psychologists of late have found

That strays will be adopted if

You change their kennel decor round.

What changes, though, must we apply

To cure our own indecorous dog

Of nadgering his private parts

And drinking daily from the bog?

The ladies of the WI

At Rylstone have their charms

With a rich autumnal rondeur

To their shoulders, hips and arms

And the modest flush at sundown

Of septembral northern girls

Who for charity's sweet reasons

Pose in nowt but hats and pearls.

As Miss March makes cake-mix naked,

With a sunflower sits Miss May,

And "Jerusalem" and jampot

Seem a million miles away...

So how about some naked poets?

A calendar - d'you think we should?

John Hegley, Newell and Cooper Clarke?

No. Somehow didn't think you would.