Bard Billot on Lord Winston The Duke of Hazard
Lord Winston, the Duke of Hazard,
Rose late and yawned.
The Palace was loud with the hubbub
Of busy courtiers preparing to flee the city.
Outside the gates, the followers of Baron Luxon
Prepared for their assault upon the city walls.
The Duke of Hazard wandered into the Great Hall
For a leisurely breakfast of toasted non-binary unicorns
Drizzled in a light sauce of woke outrage.
At the head of the Great Table,
Sits King Chipkins the Lonely with head in hands.
He looked up with forlorn hope in his eyes.
“I’m 500 troops short,” he starts.
“I don’t suppose you might … er … ”
Winston merely shakes his head,
Tossing a few toasted unicorns into his mouth.
Lord Winston ambles out across the drawbridge,
Where low ranked list MPs are flinging themselves
Into the moat in despair.
Lord Winston saunters past the enemy camp.
They eye him malignly but their swords are left sheathed,
For none may challenge the Duke of Hazard.
Toad of Seymour grabs his sack of treasure,
A glistening motherlode of the Baubles of Office.
“Back away, Duke!” he warns Winston,
“It’s mine – mine – all mine!”
But the biggest baubles of all magically appear
In the quicksilver hands of Winston, Master Prestidigitator.
The great illusionist juggles his purloined emeralds and rubies
Before the bamboozled Seymour.
“Look and learn, young fellow,” winks Lord Winston
With a crocodile like grin.
Winston wanders into the Grand Tent of the Baron
And idly munches on a shiny apple he plucks
From the vast tables of premium class catering.
He spots Fair Lady Nicola
Stuck beneath a large pile of parchments
With crossed out sums and red ink scrawled all over.
“Working hard or hardly working?”
Jokes witty Lord Winston.
Lady Nicola colours a deep rosy shade of dainty rage.
“Must we be wagged by this loathsome tail?” she complains
To Baron Luxon who sits staring into space.
The Baron momentarily returns from his journey
To the astral plane
And snaps to attention with a blink.
“Well, none of us want to be wagged,” sighs the Baron,
“But I will sacrifice all for The Crown.”
And he and Lord Winston, Duke of Hazard,
Stroll out into the blood red dusk to speak
On what manner of sacrifice may be required.
Victor Billot has previously felt moved to write Odes for such luminaries as Christopher Luxon, David Seymour, Nicola Willis, and Chris Hipkins.
