Howard Osborne Poet Rhyme

CLEAN AIR

CLEAN AIR

Only a few now recall the London smogs
The early Fifties, I think it may have been
When a man used to walk ahead of a bus
As schoolkids, it was a strange time for us
Almost every day greeted by a misty scene
Our young minds were just whirring cogs

White collars got smudged with sooty grime
A prisoner in that secluded and private cage
Was this our coal fires or industry’s disgrace
Not to see your hand in front of your face
Was decades ago really such a different age
But lives still went on, even during that time

Now, it’s more the exhaust from diesel trucks
With traffic-clogged roads from dawn to dusk
The dirty pall is nothing like cool country mist
In cities, the public is likely to shake their fist
To breathe and be well again, remove the husk
It is all about making and spending our bucks

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