The Rule of Three

And yet again there are three:
unwise men who – blithely spirited-
would pull us forward
over the precipice.
Three fiddlers burning Rome
and every other's home:
God Bless Us
- and Old King Cole.

Three, again?
Again and again
and always men.

There was a mad triumvirate:
the silly man with the black moustache,
The Leader, The Leader, (follow the leader),
and Uncle, a steel man - Uncle Joe.
Men of Vision,
Men of Strength,
willing to go to any length.

And after only three score and ten,
we face a wicked trio again.
Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full
of woolly promises and lies

Men or mice?
Three blind, unthinking mice,
where on earth is the carving knife?

One, King of Orient is…
he follows his own star,
in his own disaster-ous movie,
with the cheesy atom-bomb
explosion from the 50's news.

One King is Ruslan reborn,
or so he believes.
A bear, a bear - of uncertain stare,
from court spy, to the King
- the King of the Judo Mat.

One King is also the Fool,
proud that he is “no-one's” tool,
“Donald, Donald, he's our man,
he will do it 'cos he can”.
Fool, Jester, Clown or Dunce,
he need only press the button once.

So the rule of three reigns,
as it always has,
as it always will.
Not having three wishes
is a bitter pill.

Uncle Sam's island pet,
yaps on the sidelines,
dismayed and amused
at the peace we've won.
The little dog laughs
to see such fun.