It is reported that the Government is to ban the burning of coal in domestic fires; perhaps the Chinese and Germans need it for their new power stations!

Some people, often those quite poor,
As well as keeping shut the door,
Light up the fire and then use coal,
To heat the house, in part or whole.

It keeps them from an early death,
A bit like, I suppose, Macbeth,
Although in his case, in the play,
Did he burn coal? It doesn’t say.
But back to now: bituminous,
Is what has mainly bit the dust,
And people ought to be all right,
If they burn only anthracite.

For it’s not smoky, burns quite clean,
And so is ranked as rather green,
But make sure when you get a sack,
It isn’t full of nutty slack!


Sledging hill

It is reported that £90,000 in European Union ‘cohesion’ funds has been spent on building a sledging hill in Hungary in the hamlet of Jakabszállás where it hardly ever snows.

If you would like to … yes you will!
Build some sort of a sledging hill,
Then my advice to you today,
Is get the kind EU to pay.

They have the cash, that’s not in doubt,
And they so like to dole it out;
They like to give it out so fast,
And do it with few questions asked.

There might be some, like, “What’s your name?”
Or, “Who will be the best to blame,
If it goes wrong and people say,
It shouldn’t have been done that way?”

But that aside, the money’s there,
So you might as well have your share;
It will look good, at least a bit,
Even if no-one uses it.

The Magyars did as they were told,
They built the hill for young and old,
But when all done they had to say,
There wouldn’t be much snow that day.

And not the next nor after that,
But if you thought you’d smelled a rat,
Don’t worry there might be a loss –
The EU couldn’t give a toss.

The project’s finished, money spent,
They can account for where it went,
So now they’ve gone, gone off in haste.
To see what more cash they can waste!



It is reported that the Government has given the go-ahead for the controversial HS2 railway from London to Birmingham and then further on to Manchester and Leeds, and has also announced a major five billion pound investment in buses and cycle lanes.

The Government will now pursue,
The project known as HS2,
Though many think it less than wise,
To do a job of such a size,
When that which has been done so far,
Is not exactly up to par.

When I say ‘up to par’ I mean,
That it was largely unforeseen,
How much the cost of it would be,
And even then no guarantee.

But Boris says it will cost less,
Ensuring, then, a great success;
He has his magic wand now waved –
The means by which cash will be saved.

But what if savings can’t be made,
Too many bills that can’t be paid?
Well, there’s the rail replacement bus,
Familiar to all of us,
But even if there is a need,
These buses can’t be guaranteed.

So Boris has another plan,
That every woman, child or man,
Who needs a fast means of transport,
Then as a final last resort,
To take them all from place to place –
The bikes will be there just in case!


Lollipop man

It is reported that the number of lollipop people is in decline.

It’s always been a general rule,
That when our children go to school,
A person will the traffic stop,
By holding up a lollipop.

A man or woman it can be,
Referred to hence as he or she;
They can be young or often old,
Provided they are fit to hold,
The stick with circle on the top –
That’s why it’s called a lollipop.

The children always like to see,
At nine o’clock and half past three,
This lolly person who will guide,
Them all across the other side.

A few kids who are rather bold,
Might ask if they the sign can hold,
But then the man’s obliged to say,
That health and safety comes in play,
And so they must, though it’s the pits,
Keep to themselves their little mitts.

And should they try the sign to lick,
It’s odds on that they will be sick.

But now there’s news we can’t ignore,
The lollipops might be no more,
As councils can’t afford, they say,
To find the cash they have to pay.

If that is right it is a shame,
For they have worked in wind and rain,
With just one goal as their intent –
Avoiding any accident.

So maybe parents should protest,
Because on this they know what’s best,
Then if the Council ups their pay,
The lollipops won’t melt away.

But if they don’t it will be sad,
And things could turn out very bad,
For sponsors might come in and say,
With advertising we will pay,
Then there might be a redesign,
Which looks more like a ninety-nine!



It is reported that wine producers in Burgundy, Bordeaux and other regions may have to switch to more heat-resistant grape varieties such as syrah or grenache as the climate warms. Sacre bleu!

The French are awkward with their food,
And think it is extremely rude,
To change at all their food and wine,
Which they would say is rather fine.

But global warming doesn’t care,
From what the French their wine prepare,
And so if rising temps will mean,
Some different grape types on the scene,
Well, though they think that is the pits,
They’ll have to just get over it.

And if they can’t perhaps they could,
Make wine that might be just as good:
That’s mulled wine which I like a lot,
From grapes that are already hot!



It is reported that the New Year fireworks in London were a poor show as the wind was too low to disperse the smoke.

A lot of people like to go,
And watch the pyrotechnic show,
In London where on New Year’s Eve,
The crowds there make the city heave.

In former years the show was great,
And well worth several hours wait,
But the wind this year was too calm,
And robbed the display of its charm.

The smoke produced would not disperse,
And then to make the matters worse,
It drifted over to the crowd,
To whom the Mayor before had vowed,
That they would see the best display,
They’d ever seen before that day.

He’d said it all with good intent,
But then the London weather went,
And mostly messed the whole thing up,
So folk thought they’d been sold a pup.

It wasn’t practical to say,
As they had done back on D-Day,
That though for weather they might pray,
There would now be a short delay.

Back then the Germans had to wait,
To be surprised a later date,
But London crowds were not so kind,
When they were asked, “Would they not mind …”

So maybe this year was a flop,
Some other city out on top,
But London will not be outdone,
Come twenty, maybe twenty-one.


Moscow snow

It is reported that fake snow is being dumped in Moscow to try to cheer up the Moscovites.

In Moscow this year there’s no snow,
So Mr Putin said, “Oh blow!
We’ve lots of snow, and drifts we face,
But it’s all in some other place.

I think that it might be quite wise,
If people could see with their eyes,
Some snow but not from whence it came,
For all snow does look much the same.

They’ll rub their eyes, say, ‘This looks odd.
It must have been sent here by God.’
And so as sure as snow is white,
These people – please take note – are right!