The Decision

Beards wagging, heads shaking
Wise old men decision making.
Locked in a tower of rough-hewn stone
This decision must be made on their own.

All in robes, hoods pushed back
Six white robes the seventh one black.
Seven greybeards deciding a nation's fate
Crowds outside praying it's not too late.

The leader stood and paced around the room
Hoping the tower would not be their tomb.
The tyrant waited perched on his throne
Due to waiting his bad temper had grown.

Finally the greybeards decided a vote was needed
His opinion each man there strongly pleaded.
Then at long last the advisors' vote was made
The tyrant should have jam instead of marmalade!

© Khalil Goddard 2012