The King in Orange or This Rectum Runs the Spectrum

He, brought up in the green,
with spoons of silver in his mouth,
would Yellow Fever ne'er encounter.
Black Death...? Nope! Nor drouth.
     All businesses bequeath'd to him
he ran into the red,
which left his dad and mother blue
(who're Mary Anne 'n' Fred.)
      His soul...? It runs to shades of gray,
all bordering on black.
The candidates he backs...? Fa-a-ar red.
(Of those there's ne'er a lack.)
     His offspring...? White supremacists.
His dermis he terms tan.
His thatch is prematurely blonde.
He's psycho-delic, man!

Gerald FitzSpoon

A stamen...? A pistil...? This circle is hesitant.
Group granting succor where Bubbe's a resident.
     Transgender community / Gran's tender community

Pentel Puns: Games Führers Play: Exquisite Corpse

Recollecting a Loser

Not Kublai Khan in Xanadu;
Not Lincoln in the Bardo.
Not Conway, Hugh at Shangri-la
was Drumpf at MAGA-lardo.
In days to come, recalling Drumpf,
that awful autocrat,
think Bonaparte at Waterloo.
Think Casey at the Bat. 

V of D Q & A

     Q: 

What's the funniest line Emma Chambers's Alice Tinker ever delivered...?

     A: 

I can't believe it's not "I can't believe it's not 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.'"

Palace Leaks or Time to Draw on the Special Relationship

Said Charles to his Camilla,
referring to his pen,
"Oh god I hate this bloody thing.
Look! Here it goes again."
Camilla's answer to her Charles...?
"It's going everywhere.
What you require's a Sharpie, Sire.
I bet Trump kept a spare."

Pentel Puns: Games Führers Play: Sign My Yearbook: Hitler Youth, Class of '39

 

Li'l Liberry-a-Lago

 

Pentel Puns: Games Führers Play: Hangmänn

The Closing Spooner

I'm well and truly fuck'd.

I'm George III; I duck'd. 
     Eyes wide shut / I shied, what...?

Up at the Spooner

Lines from our anthem that land with a thud.
One cheese's applause, one preferr'd cheese's mud. 
     The land of the free, the home of the brave /
     the hand of the Brie, the loam of the fave