"Anyway back to the doggerel and other verses, which, after all, is what this ummmmmm thread is all about; is it not?" (Rifleman)...and, what the heck, the tune as well this time...
(Just watching the London Marathon on T.V.)
Poem 42 of 230: IMPRESSIONS OF LONDON IN 1997
(TUNE:
E Fsharp G G A G Fs Fs E Fs Fs Fs-G Fs E E E G G G A A G G E Fs Fs Fs-G Fs E E)
Cabs all uniform in their shape. Good galleries make one gape. Hard-going people on the move - Things matter much in this groove.
About the weather lots of moans. Solicits stuck on pay-phones. Summer weather - not bad, I've felt. Lads giving a ball a belt.
Real estate is worth so much - Tenants' rent sky-high, as such; Nice stocky buildings all around - Will some have to hit the ground?
Cheek to jowl: council flats needed - Stock by demand exceeded; Building higher seems only way - Unless less arrive to stay...
Beaut. looking girls from many lands - Grace gone for capital plans; Polite folks from many cultures Do become money vultures.
Veiled women in platform shoes. High-street beggars in the blues. Privacy here costs so much - Partnerships suffer, as such.
See movies and shows from way back; Of good music there's no lack; All-day breakfasts at the good pubs; An abundance of nightclubs.
Green groomed parklands: the best I've seen - Their gardens kept neat and clean; Geraniums in flowerpots On facades make pleasing spots.
Floating pubs on the River Thames, And its bridges - real gems; Both ways, here, the water goes - Still in range of tidal-flows.
Children, at park lakes, feed the ducks, Or watch squirrels take some nuts. Into ponds, weeping willows sag. Sharp attacks on those who lag.