To celebrate the naturalization of a British cousin, I wrote this riff on an old family poem.

St Pumpkin's day being near at hand
When pols and pundits throughout the land
Pursue as one a single mission
That fine American tradition:
To argue politics at the dinner table
Between Tories and Whigs of every label
Over who has lost and who is winning,
And news made good by husband's spinning.

Now see how this tradition strong
Has caused even some to cross the pond.
To party hearty with the Yanks,
It's not enough to just give thanks
If you would dare to cross the border,
some sacrifice is now in order:
Trade mushy peas and lukewarm beer
For pumpkin pie and bourbon's cheer.
(All differences could be simply filled in
though, if you bring a lovely Stilton.)


If tired with gloomy cares or sick
Of memes dank from a publick thick
You Limey lot will condescend
to join us as family *AND* friends.
So hush you now, we must not hex it
With vexatious talk of Trump and Brexit
There is no TSA or giant wall
that will stop us from joining yall.
Blighty's loss is our welcome gain,
Come make America great again!
Even though the posh might scoff,
you shall be welcome as a toff.