January 19, 2013

Oh no

One nation
some situation.
A child’s jubilation.
An adult’s woe.

 

A national standstill
you won’t make it uphill.
And how do your hands feel?
Dead like your toe.

 

The gritters are brilliant
the planes not resilient
your feet, aren’t compliant.
As backside does know.

 

Sensationalist papers
‘Does God forsake us?’
But it won’t break us!
Add to profits, an O.

 

Sleeping in airports,
cocooned with your consorts,
holidays cut short.
‘We’ll never go.’

 

But what does befall us?
Collectively stall us,
close road to school bus.

 

Can only be snow.

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Join the conversation! 1 Comment

  1. Gareth, have just found your web-site. Hearing about Yorkshire makes me nostalgic. Take care. Fiona MacBride (NZ)

    Reply

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The Great British Weather

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