June Contribution from Kirsten Krone-Wilson.
The danger of loose Cobblestones
Across the bridge and down the lane;
plodding on dogged with an empty brain;
came a wise and experienced granny;
pushing her basket on top of her trolley;
and upon a cobble all loose but unseen;
she tripped and fell and cracked her bean.
One casualty, however, is never enough;
so along came a schoolmarm all hearty and tough;
looking around her for truants and rag;
head in the sky, her foot caught a snag.
Tumbling forward she fell on her face;
and lay there unmoving: a terminal case.
Next came a child, out to enquire and play;
but finding two bodies, chose not to stay.
She turned on her heel and her heel turned on her;
her ankle sprained and she fell to the floor.
Her neck caught nanny's trolley which stopped her head's fall;
and she lay on the cobbles as still as a doll.
Lastly, up to the scene toddled an infant;
At two foot tall the cobbles weren't distant;
And unsteady on her feet she was ready to fall;
So the pot-holes posed her no danger at all;
She looked at the corpses, confused and not knowing;
Why they didn't look where they were going.
Kirsten is a long-time resident of Tilebury village who has run The Ship Inn with her husband and daughter since it was reopened in 1982. She is responsible, amongst other things for the successful musical evenings and stand-up open mic nights. She told the Harbinger that "I saw that article in the Letters page about the loose cobbles and thought that writing a poem was about as much as anyone could realistically be expectd to do about it."
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