Strike Struck Home. Comical poem no 843 by Angela Lansbury.

 

For school and work we need fast trains

Where we can read or learn or talk

Business trips, holidays - need planes

Most places are too far to walk

Because our cities aren't designed

So everyone can walk to shops

In Singapore they have a plan

Shops on corners, under each block

In London we have not created

Cities with shops we need built near

No future plans, we're outdated

There ought to be changes, it's clear

Singapore has driverless trains

And glass walls keep you off the track

Their world's drawn so everyone gains

Once you've seen that, you won't turn back

In London I sit, shake my head

And dream of flower bridges, arches

Think how London could move, instead

Like Singapore, where they ban marches

But in our chaotic culture

Anyone can make a puncture

Wreck the city with a fracture

Damaging the infrastructure

Our transport worker went on strike

Rode to the doctor's on his bike

The doctor's sign read, 'Stuck at home

Sorry, this week you're on your own.'

His children could not go to school

At last, he said, 'I am no fool

Misled by leader who's a jerk

So I'll vote, next week, back to work.'

-ends-

Rain's Good For The Garden. Comical poem 842 by Angela Lansbury

The rain is good for the garden

I'm glad it rained during the night

It was still raining this morning

Heavy wine was brought in daylight

The driver told me, 'It's raining!'

'It's good for the garden,' I said

'Good - for the garden,' he agreed

A laugh, and good thought in his head

I'm glad that the drought has ended

A good dose of rain's what lawns need

Though some of the plants have survived

We've grown a strange six-foot weed

The Great Mullein. Planted itself in our back garden in London during the drought of 2026. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

What is its secret? Please tell me

Did it steal the water from grass?

Is it something that someone can sell me?

Never mind, now the worst is past

Grass turned brown in London in hot August 2026. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Today I was glad to see rain

Though the grass is still not yet green

I shall never again complain

Because rain's what colours life's scene.

-ends-

Learning Languages. Comical Poem No 841 by Angela Lansbury.

 I have been learning German

Think and say Deutsch when you speak

I've learned a thousand words this year

That's more than one a week

One new word a day's three hundred

Allowing none on holidays

Being lazy, tired, or busy

Or having a bolshy day

I lay awake at night

Thinking what to say

But often lack a vital word

Or one word has run away

I'm feeling very smug and proud

Enough to mutter words, not loud

Just think of all the time I take

To speak with only one mistake

I'm still perplexed by die and das

The system's failed me, I suspect

But I don't like to make a fuss

Because I'm not yet perfeckt.

-ends-

The English spelling is perfect and the German spelling of the same word is perfekt.

  Where can you learn and practise speaking German? 

Flag of Germany

Flag of Austria

Flag of Switzerland

You can use German in Germany, Austria and German-speaking parts of Switzerland.  Also Luxembourg, Liechtenstein, and parts of Belgium and Italy.

Flag of Luxembourg.

Flag of Liechtenstein.

-ends-

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Let's Send Back The Elgin Marbles. Comical Poem 840 by Angela Lansbury.

Elgin. From Wikipedia. Public Domain.

 Let's send back the Elgin Marbles

Then I'm sure we'll stay close friends

Close down museums, use AI

Create a 3D happy end

We've got far too many statues

Tall town hall columns, big boring busts

Basements where unseen things store dust

We'll send some back, all, if we must

Put packets on a plane or train

Container ships which sail that way

As for post, packing, insurance

I'm sure the Greeks will gladly pay

If they're keen to take old marbles

They'd like enterprising old Greeks

We'll close British Greek restaurants

Done and dusted in just six weeks

Return retsina, rice in vine leaves

We can give it all back to Greece

We can employ our unemployed

As museum and shop police

After we've sorted out Athens

Let's have a look at crumbling Rome

We've too many pre-loved columns

Recycle, send broken ones home

We don't need old Roman villas

We don't need old Hadrian's wall

As for checking health and safety

I'm sure it won't comply at all

I'm sorry to chuck out pizza

The world's kids will miss their ice cream

Dad's spaghetti, Mum's prosecco 

Cappuccino, gelato scene 

I sat on Tesco's wooden bench

Thought, after Greece, and Italy

Return words and foods that are French

Rewriting menus is a wrench

Instead of croissants, we'll have crescents

Not chocolatine, chokky bun

Hazel nut cake and chestnutine

Creative and a lot of fun

Instead of big, sweet baklava

Puff pastry and British honey

Not Champagne, English sparkling wine

I'm sure we'd make lots more money

You heard surprising words I spoke

I was serious, not funny

I've given it a lot of thought

Wrote through the night, 'til it's sunny

For get inclusive, abusive past, rewrite the future

Be modern, make things bright and right

Let's just promote past English Kings

With not one foreign thing in sight

Yes, let's send back the Elgin marbles

Plan more demands, rivals, false friends

But, have we really thought this through?

Where will racist, insular thoughts end?

-ends-

For get with a gap was a typo but I liked it and left it.

My first draft read: I'm sure we'll all stay friends, but I wasn't sure all would, so I changed it to the ironic, some will all stay friends. 

I really did write this in the middle of the night. About 4.30 a.m. for an hour. So next morning at10.30 a.m. I am counting syllables. Cut a syllable by changing or chopping out a word in one line. Adding a word in the next. Work in progress. 1.20 pm, still revising.

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Your Greatest Enemy. Comical poem 839 by Angela Lansbury.

 

 Raid Insect Spray and Stingoes Bite Spray. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Sometimes your greatest enemy

Is something small you did not see

Which sneaked up on you in the night

And left behind a nasty bite

It strikes the poor, bourgeois and rich

You feel a twitch and then an itch

Things went so well, now life's a bitch

Now every other plan is ditched

Smothered in lemon, wrapped up tight

I do not sleep a wink all night

Stalk like a cat, hide like a mouse

You have to leave your haunted house

When something is out to harm us

Better wear winter pyjamas

Forget about the miniskirt

Try floor length skirt and long-sleeved shirt

You feel so bad you want to die

Try not to cry but simply sigh

You call on friends who wonder why

They can only see one eye

Don't ask to be a millionaire

Just pray no nits found in my hair

I'm dreaming of that happy day

When insects and bites go away.

I now recall what went before

To fight each bite and win this war

To launch attack with insect spray

And make those blighters fly away

Sometimes your greatest enemy 

Is something small you cannot see

When this torment comes to an end

I'll call the universe my friend.

-ends-

I put Comical Poem 839 online titled Your Greatest Enemy. Is that too negative? Should I change the title to 'Your Hidden Enemy'? Escaping Your Greatest Enemy? Or leave it succinct?

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Strange Senses; Sweet Smells. Comical poem 838 by Angela Lansbury

 I feel soft carpet on the floor

I feel soft towels, dry, and damp

I clasp hard handles on each door

Watch light cast shadows from the lamp

I hear the hum of traffic noise

Gulp down refreshing cups of water

I see shelves of dolls, big bears, toys

I hear bird song, far, joyful, laughter

Breathe in, aromas fill the room

Lavender, a pale pink spray

Musk, sweet jasmine, strong perfume

One day will all this go away?

No! Yet one day we'll all pass on

We will not sniff, nor touch, nor feel

It will go on, but I'll be gone

Yet what I see now seems so real

Rose in my garden, Hatch End. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Some say slow down, others hurry

I use my eyes, nose, teeth, and toes, 

Some say stay calm; others worry

Life's brief, real, sniff this lovely rose.

-ends-

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Now You've Turned Five. Comical poem 837 by Angela Lansbury.

 

Birthday candles. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Now you've reached three, passed four, turned five

Gran's job's still, keep tots alive

Don't race down high streets, I've a plan

You walk by me, and hold my hand

You must not dart across the street

You're big enough to control feet

You can't fight a big, loud lorry

He will win and we'll be sorry

Run as you like around the park

Climb up the slide and push the swing

But when we're by a busy road

That's totally a diff'rent thing

My job's to see you be a teen

Even when grown grumpy and mean

Then you can play in a loud band

But you're still small, so hold my hand

You see how adults walk alone

Talking to friends on mobile phones

Collide with others - shout at them!

They don't learn, just do it again

When I see someone walk alone

Immersed in their own mobile phone

Sorry to say, I'm not sorry

To think the winner's the lorry.

Now you've reached three, passed four, turned five

Gran's job's still, keep small tots alive

Don't race down high streets, I've a plan

You walk by me, and hold my hand.

-ends-

Revised 19 Aug. I repeated the first verse at the end. In novels it could be called bookending or framing.