Brexit Sonnet No.14 – ‘One Tragic Production’

Witness now this Carillion carry on;
Be it victim of its boundless chiming debt,
Or government multi-tasking gene now gone.
One tragic production awaits, our stage quite set.
A flying crown of fifty years brought low,
A treasured cat now eyeing Ireland’s shores.
Our EMA jobs and funds to Holland flow,
And no seat of comfort in Yorkist sofa stores.
So as director primes the nervous cast,
That padding beast ‘Uncertainty’ stalks the wings.
He knows his lines, for prompts he’s never asked,
But others falleth by his hand, like kings.
So slay this beast upon the Nation’s stage,
And acteth not from Brexit’s tragic page.

©Keith Murphy