To­day’s poem

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I was in the su­per­mar­ket Won­der­ing if they still sold semolina, When I was ac­costed by a fair young maid, Next to the oven cleaner. She said: ‘I sin­cerely hope you’re well to­day.’ She had a bright and win­ning smile. She said: ‘Would you ac­cept this bag for life? ‘It re­ally is worth­while. ‘The prob­lem is,’ she shook her head, (I saw her in­ten­tions were well meant). ‘We are all guilty of over-use, ‘Plas­tic bags are dam­ag­ing our en­vi­ron­ment.’ Then she handed me a plas­tic bag, And turned to dive back into the throng. ‘Just a minute,’ I heard my­self cry, ‘Aren’t you ex­pect­ing me to live for very long? ‘How can this be a bag for life? ‘Why I could put a hole in it, it’s thin.’ ‘Ah ha!’ she said, ‘if it gets dam­aged, ‘We’ll re­place it, don’t put it in the bin.’ ‘I bring a bag each week,’ I said. ‘It’s made of hes­sian and twine. ‘I think I bought it just af­ter the war, ‘And it’s still work­ing fine. ‘Al­low me to show you,’ I sol­diered on, ‘I’m sure my old bag will out­live me.’ ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I can’t look now, ‘I’ve all these bags to give out, see?’ I gave a rue­ful laugh as she danced away. Our world is truly paved With the very best of in­ten­tions, But how will it be saved?

Mrs Anita Bass, They­don Bois, Es­sex.


The Chan­cel­lor’s soft­ened on pay (He lis­tened to what peo­ple say). So Ge­orge, heaven’s sake, Add icing on the cake, And blow HS2 plans away! Robert Ben-Nathan,

Den­ham, Bucks.

Nurs­ery Rhyme

Early one morn­ing, Just as the sun was ris­ing, I heard a builder whistling and call­ing out: ‘Hello!’ Oh, do not grieve me, I’ll call the po­lice, be­lieve me, How could he em­bar­rass a poor maiden so?

I. G. Fen­ner, New Mil­ton, Hants.

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