Poetry

[David Guyatt]

Plain English

Remember the days when people were sane?
Customs were kept and English was plain?
Polite conversation focused on rain,
and couples held hands along Lovers Lane.

Rock was a boulder or seaside sweet,
men opened doors and gave up their seat,
the trains and the buses arrived when they should,
kids were young goats and faggots meant wood.

Couples were wed, then babies were born,
grass was thin green stuff, en mass called a lawn,
Big Mac was a raincoat, too large to fit tight,
old ladies felt safe in the street late at night.

Joy-riding was something you did on a sledge,
pot was a vessel for boiling the veg.,
joint was the meat, the great Sunday roast,
junk went in bins not sent in the post.

Gay people were happy, bad didn't mean good,
wellies weren't wanged but worn in the mud,
wicked meant evil and cool meant cold,
balls were round objects cricketers bowled.

Songs had a melody, books had a plot,
a man in a skirt was always a Scot,
a tart and a crumpet were things that you ate,
and coke was a substance burnt in the grate.

Remember the days when people were sane?
Customs were kept and English was plain?

Copyright; Nikki Barker