I've been silent here for months what with one thing and another. So here's a Christmas carol for my few remaining readers.
GOOD KING WENCESLAS
Good King Wenceslas looked out,
On the feast of Stephen,
Where the tarmac lay about
Potholed and uneven,
Brightly shone the glass around,
On the infrastructure,
When a cyclist hit the ground,
Suffering a pu- u- -uncture.“Hither, page and stand by me,
Why’s that cyclist falling?
Yonder transport policy,
Looks like it’s appalling.”
“Sire that is without an end,
Trunk roads get full budget,
When it comes to cycling spend,
They will always fu- u – dge -it.“Bring me plans and bring me powers
Bring me active travel
Thou and I will ride some hours,
In the mud and gravel.”
Page and monarch forth they rode,
Motorists were brisker,
In the weather nothing slowed.
Passed them by a whi – i -isker.“Sire this path’s as slick as grease,
Leaf mush makes it slippery,
Undermined by roots from trees,
Hazardous and cripply.”
“Yes my page, this is insane,
Drainage badly fitted,
Bend your way through this chicane
Back to where it’s gri-i -ted.”In his master’s tracks he rolled,
Tortuous and gated,
Nothing breaks the motors’ mould,
Lanes unsegregated.
Cyclists pray to all the saints,
One day they’ll deliver,
Routes instead of signs and paints,
This year next year ne -e -ver.
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