And so the Winter came
Inexorable indeed, as sure as
Night follows day.
Wet so far this year
With ground so sodden
That we might fear
That if it rains so very hard
In places there’ll be Hell to pay.
The inevitability of floods again
Perhaps in the Somerset Levels
Where at least
they’ve forced some dredging
Out of those political devils.

As with health, education
And being secure
Money should be spent
On the land for sure.
But one wonders sometimes
About brown paper packets
From crooked men
With their crooked rackets
That disappear into certain pockets
And ease the signing of particular dockets.

For it’s not the concrete
That covers the land
But where the government
Allows it put
It’s no use building
On marshland
You’d think they’d understand.
Yet I’ve no doubt at all
That cash changes hands
Perhaps not these days
In stretched rubber bands.
Yet in a place
Of expenses fraud
Filled by those
Who decide our fate
I’m minded of
Wise words I heard
It’s often said
Crooks congregate.

©Joe Wilson – Winter floods…2016