They lived at Yew Tree Manor
An aristocratic name
So the Yew Tree Guesthouse
It became
David and Naomi
Jeremy and Piers
Did bed and breakfast
For years and years
Bohemian and radical:
Naomi rode a scooter
And used old Guardians
As draft excluders
Piers became an expert
In meteorology
But the world of politics
Called him and Jeremy
In the Labour Party
Jeremy had sympathy
For his brother, his friend Tariq
And other members of the IMG
That’s the International Marxist Group
By the way
Jeremy was never a member
Or so they say
Jeremy became an MP
For North Islington in London
Waitroses. Marxists.
There are both in abundance
Piers bet against
The Met Office. His predictions
Were sometimes accurate
Sometimes fiction
Skipping ahead: Now
Jeremy’s Labour leader
“Theresa May?” He snorts
“I will defeat her.”
Climate change, meanwhile
Piers denies
All contra-indications
Are mistakes or lies
Believers
They were brought up believing
Evidence and proof
Are always deceiving
So Piers and Jeremy
Together
Still battle the class enemy
One predicts the weather
One predicts the future
One loves beards
And that would be Jeremy
Not Piers
Copyright Tom Morton 2017
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