BEASTLY TALES

THE RACONTEUR

Public speaking, what an odium,
Standing before all, behind a podium.
Your every move, and word, being judged,
As through your discourse you have trudged.
Even though you may be somewhat wise,
Audience will always manage to criticize.
Committees, and similar human groups,
Demand one speak out, to other fruitloops,
In the Chamber, on the floor,
Huddled away from the open door.
Basil Bentbrush has the chair,
Although he wishes he wasn’t there.
Thus the meeting of the Cabinet,
Progresses about as fast as it can get.
Although in the Chair, he was standing,
Thumbing his notes, as though he was landing,
His audience, whilst remaining aloof,
Went wild, that is to say, through the roof.

Basil Bentbrush sometimes looked muscular,
But only when twilight seemed crepuscular.
Otherwise he looked flaccid and thin,
With a small head, resembling a pin.
He was known as a good raconteur,
Punctuating boring speeches, when he had the floor,
With racy asides, that had some spice,
So that those being bored could say something nice.
Because of his penchant for being witty,
He was asked to serve on almost every committee.
Weddings, funerals and barmitzvahs too,
Bentbrush always invited, his reputation grew.

One day he encountered a fair lady speaker,
She was lecturing an audience on not being weaker,
Her name was Susan Suffragette,
Being as popular as one can get.
Bentbrush approached her after her speech,
He thought she looked a delectable peach,
“Could I interest you in dinner tonight?”
“I promise, no speeches, if that’s alright.”
And whilst he contemplated where they would dine,
She had the temerity to deftly decline.
“I know you always give an after dinner speech,”
“And if you did, I’d pull my hair and screech.”
“Even though you did not say you would not,”
“I don’t believe you, not one jot!”
“Your whole boring repertoire you’ll make me sit through.”
“No time out, even to go to the loo.”
“So you’ve asked me with you, to dinner to go,”
“But, sadly, my answer just has to be NO!”

Poor Bentbrush felt somewhat put out.
He had always been a loquacious lout,
In future he would have to deliver a soliloquy.
“That’s talking without hearers, to you and to me!”