Home Thoughts from Abroad

(With grovelling apologies to Robert Browning)

Oh, to be in England

Now that April's there,

And whoever wakes in England

Sees, in his thermal underwear,

That the greenest lawns all once so neat

Are strewn with beer cans from the street,

While bikers make a fearful row

In England now.

And after April, when May follows

And the yob gets drunk on all he swallows,

 Hark, .where-the ghetto blaster in the hedge

Blares to the field and shatters on the clover

 Rock and rap - at the ear-drum's edge –

That the DJ; he plays each piece twice over

Less he think you never will recapture

The first foul tuneless rapture!

And though Brent looks rough with hairy crew,

All will be gay when legislation's through.

And from their shell-suits people glower

-Far gloomier than this gaudy Costa Tower.

Philip Evans

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