A poem for Boris

In Competition No. 3022 you were invited to compose a safe poem that Boris Johnson could have on hand to quote from when out in the field.

The recent kerfuffle caused by the Foreign Secretary’s murmured quotation of a few lines of Kipling’s poem ‘Mandalay’ during a visit to Shwedagon Pagoda in Myanmar led me to wonder whether it might be wise, given the ever-increasing number of no-go areas when it comes to subject matter, to challenge you to fashion an all-purpose poem unlikely to offend.

Barbara Jones’s Blakean-flavoured entry — ‘And did my feet in foreign clime/ Trample on sensitivities?’ — caught my attention, as did Tim Raikes’s patter song. But they were outstripped by the winners below, who take £25 each. The extra fiver is D.A. Prince’s.

When you require a few bon mots about you
(Let’s not be If-men — life’s too bloody short)
Look for a lingua franca when men doubt you.
Diplomacy’s an art and not a sport.
O tempora, o mores — much too gloomy,
Remember, Latin’s now for chaps who brag.
Some murmurings — Confucius, or Rumi
Mugged up ahead; success is in your bag.
 
When you can rescue triumph from disaster —
Yes, chaps, we’ve been there, every one of us —
We’re equals; there’s no notion of a ‘master’.
A common Karma, not a media fuss.
All brothers, sisters, everyone, whatever.
No Latin genders messing up our show.
We’re all in this united world together:
OK, just one: pro bono publico.
D.A. Prince
 
I’ve a breathless crush on our Hosts tonight —
Friends to make, as an English twin —
When we make our pitch, it’s a sheer delight,
So now let us say, with an ample grin,
That it’s not for the sake of the trading boat
Or to stake a place in your hall of fame:
It’s a backslapperama, dear friends of note:
“Play up! play up! and play your game!”
Yours is the world that, year by year,
We must embrace.