Oh Alistair, Darling, said Mrs D

You really must buy more hair dye, you know

I know you’re partial to economy

But why does most of your head look like snow

While your eyebrows are black as they can go

It’s not a good look, Darling; can they trust

A man with hair that doesn’t match on show?

Oh Gord, said Mrs B, this is the worst

Case scenario. Labour’s bubble’s burst

And you’re like a fish out of water. See

How you gulp for air as the rivers flow

Over Tony’s banks? When you speak you must

Not gulp or gasp. Though you’re charisma-free

I love the way your glass eye twinkles so!