A Female Minister For Social Development Poem by Dr Ronnie Bai

A Female Minister for Social Development

She loves to arrive in perfect style on site
She'd once a year visit. Riding in Royce
She looks like an angel in haloed flight.

Her job has turned her into the showcase
Of fashion attire topping the world's best
With Louis Vuittons swinging as her briefcase —

As if croc's hide on handbags could behest
The villagers in swamps to swim and sing
For flood relief to tame the beast in nest;

As if Prada heels' crisp clicking clacking
Could Saviour's message to trapped souls send
To crawl out the quaked mire without digging;

As if Versace, Dolce and Gucci's bright blend
Could th' old shepherds' darkened tents lighten up
And make their cataracting sand storms end;

As if Clive Christian and her scented backup
Could vaporize typhoon victims' sick stench
Before among God's garden myrtles they sup.

As if attending th' Oscar on her back bench
She causes but a little media's hushed twitter
And Big Boss to secretly mouth her wench.

Her torn Victoria's Secret doesn't matter
If she opens to him her doors wider —
His budget for her office gets bigger.