The town of Accoladia had bought a neon sign,
which came in at a bargain price - and what a grand design.
But who’s name would best fit the thing, and who should shine on high -
upon the screen upon the hill – and did it matter why? 

The town of Accoladia was set to have a vote.
They jockeyed for position and all thunk hard for a quote.
The race to lead the punters, and to have one’s name in lights,
took on a new dimension, at the Tuesday council nights.

Each week the Accoladians, would read their local rag.
Might it be a Wonderman, or would it be a dag?
Would they vote with conscience, or would they vote in block -
for left or right or centre, and each other’s choices, mock? 

Now, how would Bloggsville fit the sign – and how would Smithtown go?
Mister, misses, Miss or Ms, or what about Joe Blow?
The folk of Accoladia - the punters as they might,
still helped each other selflessly and saw each other right. 

A members meeting up the creek, was where they would decide
upon the words, upon the sign, and who would burst with pride.
Lightning flashed as storm cloud blew – a thunder bolt went “BANG”
Then came the mighty flooding rain, as loud the church bell rang.

In darkness, as the torrent rose, they scrambled for the boat.
“Which way will we row” they cried “We’ll have to take a vote”.
The right voted for this way, whilst the left voted for that.
So round in circles Council spun, thus deepening the spat.

“We must get back to Chambers to ensure our sign’s OK.
But how will we get back on course if we keep on this way?”
A distant generator noise, and beacon split the night.
“WELCOME TO ACCOLADIA - WHERE TOWNSFOLK SEE YOU RIGHT!”