The curse of In Memoriam

The silent carriage on the train

            Two students chatter all the way

            And overhead the tannoys play

Their verbal games to fuzz my brain.

A sudden silence; will it last?

            Dare I take my book and draft

            Some morning thoughts and try to craft

Lines before the coming blast

Of 'Now arriving at Winchester'

            'Please take all your luggage with you'

            'This train does not stop at Crewe'

'Change at Basingstoke for Bicester'.

Quiet again, but now I've lost

            Any hope of rational thought

            So turn back to the paper bought

At Waterloo, despite the cost,

With freebies lying all around

            But who reads Metro, with its streams

            Of soap and junk and unfilled dreams

When you yearn for matter more profound?

But then the new is so depressing

            What with job losses and the banks

            And of course no-one gives thanks

To those of us who are still working

Let alone the silent hoards

            Who keep the country ticking over

            Cleaning, sweeping, no hint of clover

Or a soft place in the Lords.

Pause there: the problem with this verse

            As Tennyson found in In Memoriam

            Is it can run as infinitum

Unless you have the guts to curse

And stop it dead.....

Brian Hick March 09

©copyright Sally Hick March 2022