Creative Works

A bit like Tai Chi
The sea moves rhythmically
Ebbing and flowing

Panorama of Blackpool Tower and the Pleasure Beach

A Government Directive

They dug up the entire footpath,
Marked with coloured chalk,
Put barriers outside our houses,
Signs where we couldn’t walk.

When they’d laid their coloured cable,
A new team was ready to begin,
To excavate another trench,
Where the first one had filled theirs in.

They cut the lamppost wiring,
Made an almighty mess,
Laid their Internet cable,
Promising faster access,

Not for pensioner or postman,
Mothers pushing prams,
Not for car and delivery drivers,
Delayed in traffic jams.

I complained to the local Council,
The cablers they could not pursue,
“Sorry! It’s a Government Directive,
There’s nothing we can do.”

If any poem strikes a chord with you, tell me. Only I will see it.

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