“THE SPEAKER”

by Helena Sheridan

His face composed, the speaker rose and ventured to the stand,
His aim to read the weighty screed clenched firmly in his hand.
With steely stare and haughty air he gave the desk a tap.
The crowd obeyed as he displayed a comprehensive map.
“Tonight I’ll show,” they heard him crow, “my legendary treks,”
They all pressed near but at the rear, they had to crane their necks.
From Timbuktu to Kathmandu in swaggering detail,
He spoke at length, bragged of his strength, and revelled in the tale.
The crowd grew bored, some even snored, it seemed nothing could quell,
His oratory, until…a bee, flew on his left lapel!
And then anew, their interest grew, not for his famous hike,
With covert nods, they each placed odds on when the bee would strike.
Oblivious to any fuss, the speaker beamed with pride,
Their close intent, he figured meant, the crowd was on his side.
With fresh appeal, he spoke with zeal, they watched his arms gyrate,
Urged by the throng, the bee clung on, although it was irate.
Perhaps a din, would help them win, they all conspired to holler,
Which stirred the bee, and sluggishly, it wandered round his collar.
Then from his vest, it chose to rest, beside the speaker’s ear,
At once the stakes, reached record rates, the crowd began to cheer!
Extremely proud, the speaker bowed, just as the bee took flight,
It’s plan to impale, put a sting in his “tale”, and a buzz in a boring night!