‘The time has come’ the Corbyn said, to talk of other things,
Of protests, flags and demos,
Of Engels, Marx and other friends,
And why the birds have wings.’
The Corbyn thought of many ways
His message to convey,
Of tweets, and leaflets, mail and phones
And calls to Higher Things.
The Limpet, on his slimy rock,
Had gifts to give his friend,
A mighty shell to ward of blows.
A stickyness to stay on post.
And thus their friendship was replete,
The blast of revolution complete
The raging waters that they stirred
Was soundly rooted in the deep.