Nice Morning
by Robert Roberts
'Nice morning,' he'd remark. Or, if
It wasn't, 'Not so nice today.'
And, watching his Jack Russell sniff
Our labrador, perhaps he'd say,
'There's rain about.' Or, if there was
No rain about, perhaps just that.
Sniffing the air we part, because
We know just where to leave it at.
For, if we did go on about
The nuclear thing, or child abuse,
Greenhouse effect, or modern art,
Biassed reporting on the News,
Or women priests, graffiti, crime,
Man's taking leave of God, what price
That poetry that doesn't rhyme -
The morning would be not so nice.
Saturday, October 21, 2017
Nice Morning by Robert Roberts
From The Spectator, 27 May 1989
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