The Day the Council Flooded

The Salisbury Rain
Always falls on the plain
While the tiger in the woods
Stalks the badger again
The lion down the lane
Roars when I pedal passed
But it seems I can't complain
You either play dead or cycle fast
The council forgot the recycling today
Its been the 19th week
And the rubbish won't go away
Bristol Zoo let out its animals
In a green protest
But I must attest
Though they are a pest
They certainly liven up the place

Then this Noah from number 42
Said he'd solve the problem by counting two by two
Then the rains fell fast
And I believed his resolve wouldn't last
But he'd already built a boat
Called a floating zoo

Well the council didn't like it
But they had to accept
It was a darned sight better
Than what they'd come to expect

And yet still the bin men didn't come
Now the water table you could dine one
We found plastic milk bottles
Lashed together make a fine pontoon
To stand on

And Noah he took the animals round a tour of Salisbury plain
That had become the new hotspot of flood tourism
And migration again

Great White Egret

 Come spread your white wings

About my rusty springs

Oh Egret of the Sandy lands

Up here in migrant fare

Come be blown like a sack cloth

Pure white as a snow flake, sin-free

Come spread your angel wings

About me, sit in my Ash tree

Come burn a white hot flame

Down by the cold black lake

And write in your smoke signals

The message of my mistake

You are my guardian Angel

You take away my pain

I pray to you Great Egret

Far off in the beating rain

Fairy tale migration

Cindy works in a shoe shop
Goldie is a hair dresser
She makes bears look better
And is an animal beautician
Red riding hood is a ranger
who hunts wolves

Her God mother comes to stay
She has turned into a migrant worker
That's the American way

All aboard!

 Europe is leaking

The ship is going down

Crossing the English stream

Cashing in on the crown

Lives are overboard

There are no barriers or guards

This lack -loose feeling is nothing so hard

So where is the deterrent?

 The message is Come!

Come gentle migrant

We welcome all with warm arms

Yet only the policy of no

kill and no fence

Is keeping these migrants

From a starving offence

Sure Britain maybe heaven

But really it's not

It's rainy, it's over crowded

And the politics is rot

No one speaks truths worth hearing

Ah the lies are afloat

We cling to them like dinghies

Our lies are our life boats

Collective misappraisal

And mutual illusion

We fall under the spell

of a Government delusion

But we get the politicians

That we want they say

Ultimately this policy of come in

Is just the way

That we collectively would like it to be

But where say the ones with murderous looks

Will it ever stop? Where in the history books

That perhaps they have read but probably not

As it's all just a rhetoric of fear that is hot

On their minds in their souls

And in their pockets at the bar

When they find they are empty it

Reopens a scar

Of inadequacy at their situation

At the powerless plight

Of the underclasses who are still

Down trodden despite their best fight

And then they reach for scape goats 

To fire bomb at night

Or hark back to old England

Which they believe they love or might

Yet probably they hate this rainy old isle

Probably they envy the migrants'

Brave style

To fling themselves in dinghies and escape

The drowning ship

Yet it is also a castle fortress 

That holds their hearts in its grip

And though like the Titanic we might

Swim for the shore

Can we really turn aside 

From the drowning migrant poor?

They hardly are invading, 

They are being rescued out to sea

But there is a policy of policing

France's border which foolish laws oversee

Coupled with faulty advertising

Of Britain as the land of the free

When they are in the migrant camps

They wonder where is the friendly cup of tea?

So don't let's blame it all on these ambitious souls

Who are taking advantage of opportunities

We leave them like trails of sweets and coals

To follow to our door and then

Refuse to let them in?

First change the broadcast message

If the truth of it is paper thin

Tell them it will be a struggle

And they will likely not find proper work

They'll be at the mercy of stronger gangs

Who will exploit them like the hawks

They are and as the weak they will be prey

For the system will likely forget about them

It will be no holiday

If after some years they establish a home

It will likely be in an enclave of a large city

That will be like to them ancient Rome

And The bread and circuses

Will have them battling for their lives

They'll miss their homes and families

Be separated from their wives

So is it all really worth it

To set off from foreign shore

All to find some riches

When in their hearts they'll be poor