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My country 'tis of thee,
Oh, can I never be cliché-free?
It's a free country, or so they tell us,
But if of tired expressions you could deliver us,
I would be delirious.
The largest distance is a country mile,
But ne'er did that expression raise a smile.
The far country, the old country, go to the country.
How many times have we not heard that throughout history?
And although I really do not wish to be unkind
To the one-eyed man who might be king in the country of the blind,
And a prophet might not be without honour,
But for heaven's sake – let's have some colour!
The risk of the commonplace is ever near.
Let's set up some tension between words here!

My country might be king
Now that's the sort of thing.
We are on our way to being cliché-free.
The largest distance is the one-eyed man
That's the sort of thing which might just scan.
The unkind man would be king in the the old country
And in a free country, a prophet might be delirious.
And have his honour, because from that Undiscovered Country,
No traveller returns.

Lots of fun, but let us be honest here. Look!
It really is just gobbledy-gook!.
I have had enough. I will not go to the country – it disgusts.
And besides: Words and phrases that with country rhyme:0 results.
This poem is really quite sterile.
I've missed my target by a country mile!

© Richard Strong, April 2009