Election Fever

A poem for tomorrow!

Election Fever

It was the day of election, excitement day,
Unless sunny and then to beach ward way!
Voting with their feet, buckets and spade,
Increased turnout was not well made;
But perhaps they came, took voting slip,
Before the beach and seaside dip,
Past the smiling faces, shaking hands,
Thinking of sunbathing on those sands;
Don’t smile at me they want to scream,
As they think of beach and soft ice cream;
While crosses marked, a time to vote,
But I sadly miss Honest Nev’s tote,
And wonder at the odds he’d set,
And whether candidates themselves would bet;
Throughout the day, they come and go,
The voters, some faster, some very slow:
The hobbling stick, the bent old back,
For the elderly are rarely slack,
But younger folk may stay away,
Politics is for them just for dismay:
High rents, costly living, no night life,
Their world a struggle full of strife;
Then sounds the gong at end of time,
As if the bell of doom does chime,
And counting slips, just one by one,
Until they read out who was won,
And good luck to all who lose and win,
While manifestos go recycling bin!