Sonnet Xviii To Theresa May Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Shall I compare thee to Churchill's heyday?
thou art outsmartèd cherry picking fate:
rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
election's lease hath all too short a date.
Oftimes hot, cold, dumb Brexit bathos blows,
too often is its sloppy thinking bared,
maybe its meaning civil discord sows,
bucks Britain's lofty course. May's running scared.
Eternal economic winter trade
may cripple, triple deficits for years
until death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
once voters wait in patient lines time shears.
So long United Europe's flag's payee
So long United Kingdom flags, falls f[r}ee



17 February 2018