A limerick dedicated to HRH Prince Leonard, * for his 79th Birthday.
A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR PRINCE LEONARD! ! ! !
There once was a farmer named Leonard,
quite a thinker and very well-mannered.
When they wanted his money
he found this not funny
and quickly became PRINCE Leonard.
And established a souvereign state,
without fuss or a lengthy debate.
as the world held its breath:
‘would he fight to the death? ’
Or default and accept his fate?
So, it quickly became quite clear
that the Prince did not recognize fear.
Although high were the stakes
he quite had what it takes
and knew that vict’ry was near.
Then they threatened to come out in force,
to destroy this disgrace at its source.
By the end of the season
they would punish his treason
and undo this unlawful divorce.
“You will cease and desist”, they declared,
and in parliament tempers flared.
“You must lay down your weapon
lest dreadful things happen,
our country is owned, NEVER shared! ”
Yet Prince Leonard had needed no guns,
(a principle taught to his sons) .
‘twas abundantly plain
he had used his brain
to stand up to these modern day Huns.
So the stand-off continued unchanged,
with negotiations arranged.
People asked how one could
imitate Robin Hood,
(there was talk that this man was deranged) .
And the tabloids predicted defeat.
Told the man to return to his wheat.
Or this farmer of dirt
would most surely get hurt.
That this power he’d never beat.
Well three decades have passed at HUTT,
and its borders have never been shut.
with many nations
are the future – and treason it’s NOT.
Now, the country called HRPP
is alive, independent and free.
Only once did it seem
an impossible dream
of a man who’s determined to be.
So what makes this story unique?
Is it showing the strong versus weak?
For, to simply secede
-an astonishing deed-
it belongs to a different league.
Well, I’m nearing the end of this story,
of freedom and courage and glory.
Don’t you wish that you had
as much guts as this lad,
he succeeded and never was sorry.
Just some parting words and the conclusion
‘bout a place of resplendent seclusion.
Me? -I like what I see!
It’s the place to be.
And, most certainly not an illusion.
On a map it is only a sliver.
To the pollies? It makes them shiver!
But wherever you are
it never seems far:
Our beautiful, precious Hutt River.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem