Because I have my finger on the pulse of current affairs, here is a poem about the lion spotted in Essex in August of this year...
The Essex Lion
He was sighted, first, in Clacton.
He was glimpsed at down in Greys.
The locals were beside themselves,
As the hours turned to days.
The bandwagon was leapt upon,
Local tourism was dying
Until, by chance, a new attraction:
The fabled Essex Lion.
It took little time to cash in,
Mugs and T-shirts made with ease,
And let's not forget the rubbish jokes
From a thousand twitter feeds.
Did he escape from a local zoo?
Had he nefarious intentions?
Was he here to get a spray tan
And some newer mane extensions?
Had he come to DJ at the clubs
and bars on Brentwood high street?
Was he nothing but a fat tom cat
Or a poetical conceit?
Had he met a girl from Essex
In Kenya, while on the booze,
Heard that her name was Savannah
And just got a little confused?
After several weeks of nothing
the reporters were restless and sighin'.
By now, if you said that you'd seen him,
we're pretty sure that you'd be lion.
It may have been a hoax,
but it wasn't all that funny.
Turns out, the Essex Lion
was just some moron in a onesie.