The Diplomatic Platypus -- Patrick Barrington

Thanks to Frank O'Shea for introducing me to today's
poem

(Poem #1028) The Diplomatic Platypus I had a duck-billed platypus when I was up at Trinity, With whom I soon discovered a remarkable affinity. He used to live in lodgings with myself and Arthur Purvis, And we all went up together for the Diplomatic Service. I had a certain confidence, I own, in his ability, He mastered all the subjects with remarkable facility; And Purvis, though more dubious, agreed that he was clever, But no one else imagined he had any chance whatever. I failed to pass the interview, the board with wry grimaces Took exception to my boots and then objected to my braces, And Purvis too was failed by an intolerant examiner Who said he had his doubts as to his sock-suspender's stamina. Our summary rejection, though we took it with urbanity Was naturally wounding in some measure to our vanity; The bitterness of failure was considerably mollified, However, by the ease with which our platypus had qualified. The wisdom of the choice, it soon appeared, was undeniable; There never was a diplomat more thoroughly reliable. The creature never acted with undue precipitation O, But gave to every question his mature consideration O. He never made rash statements his enemies might hold him to, He never stated anything, for no one ever told him to, And soon he was appointed, so correct was his behaviour, Our Minister (without Portfolio) to Trans-Moravia. My friend was loved and honoured from the Andes to Esthonia, He soon achieved a pact between Peru and Patagonia, He never vexed the Russians nor offended the Rumanians, He pacified the Letts and yet appeased the Lithuanians, Won approval from his masters down in Downing Street so wholly, O, He was soon to be rewarded with the grant of a Portfolio, When on the Anniversary of Greek Emancipation, Alas! He laid an egg in the Bulgarian Legation. This untoward occurrence caused unheard-of repercussions, Giving rise to epidemics of sword-clanking in the Prussians. The Poles began to threaten, and the Finns began to flap at him, Directing all the blame for this unfortunate mishap at him; While the Swedes withdrew entirely from the Anglo-Saxon dailies The right of photographing the Aurora Borealis, And, all efforts at rapprochement in the meantime proving barren, The Japanese in self-defence annexed the Isle of Arran. My platypus, once thought to be more cautious and more tentative Than any other living diplomatic representative, Was now a sort of warning to all diplomatic students Of the risks attached to negligence, the perils of imprudence, Beset and persecuted by the forces of reaction, O, He reaped the consequences of his ill-considered action, O, And, branded in the Honours List as 'Platypus, Dame Vera', Retired, a lonely figure, to lay eggs in Bordighera. -- Patrick Barrington

I was delighted to receive today's poem - its brand of inspired silliness is
rare, and even rarer when this well done. There's a very understated, almost
deadpan quality to Barrington's humour here that is hard to pinpoint, but
definitely recognisable. I am reminded of Shel Silverstein for some reason,
though, again, I can't exactly say why.

As for the form - as Frank said when he sent in the poem, "Its sustained
collection of triple rhymes puts the author right up there with Gilbert."
There is a difference, though - Barrington's rhymes are far less obtrusive,
their perfection blending them seamlessly into the poem rather than
highlighting them. The mix of double and triple rhymes is unexpected, but
(once I squelched the urge to sing the poem to Modern Major General)
remarkably smooth.

Links:

   Biography: Patrick Barrington, 1908-1990

   The other poem of Barrington's that seems to be popular on the net is his
   'I Had a Hippopotamus',
   http://members.aol.com/HippoPage/hipppoem.htm#barrington

   The 'triple rhyme' theme:
      Poem #1023, W. S. Gilbert, 'The Soldiers of our Queen'
      Poem #1025, Newman Levy, 'Thais'
      Poem #1026, Rudyard Kipling, 'The Prodigal Son'

Postscript:
  I have a distinct feeling I'm missing some of the references in the poem,
  particularly the 'Dame Vera' bit in the last verse. If anyone spots an
  allusion, do write in. Likewise, if anyone has more of a biography please
  add it on.

-martin