Honour Offer
What a fracas; I don’t know
what on earth is going on!
A base is topless in Trafalgar square
and ghosts yearn, to be, thereupon.
People name contenders for the plinth;
if one pulls it off, will it be gone?
Be sure that when this happens
we'll be right back at square one!
Notes by the author
I wrote this poem following an upsurge of suggestions in 'letters to the editor' in the Daily Telegraph. It seemed that everybody was promoting one or another famous person they thought sufficiently deserving to be commemorated on a vacant plinth in Trafalgar Square.