THE LAST BONG

poem by: Darryl Ashton
Written on Sep 19, 2017

Sitting in central London
It's 12 o'clock midday,
I can tell that by my
timepiece
And its digital display.

It seems in working
order
But something just
feels wrong,
Only then do I
realise
I haven't heard a
bong.

There hasn't been
a power cut
Or nuclear attack,
They just need to
make allowances
For the poor old
steeplejacks.

As the clock must
be dismantled
And Big Ben must
be still
'Cos he's such a 
mighty bonger
He could make the
people ill.

But have they 
stopped to consider,
Thought for a minute
or two
Of the effect on the
national psyche
And the damage it
could do?

If Big Ben must be
silent
For years or however
long,
Surely it's imperative
That we still have a
bong?

It's going to spell
disaster
For the News At
Ten;
It'll lose all it's 
gravitas
Till the chimes 
resume again.

So I'm calling on
the multitudes
Wherever you
belong.
Can't you see your
country needs you?
Needs you to go
'bong'!

At the top of every
hour
Let's hear it loud
and strong,
All across the nation,
Everyone just go 
'bong'!

Then repeat it by
that number
As befits the time
of day,
You might get some
funny looks
But don't worry 
what others say.

All races and
religions,
People of every
age,
Unite in this futile
gesture - 
It's what's needed
at this stage.

A symbol of defiance
Against everything
that's gone wrong,
A lot of little voices
Can make a mighty
'bong'.

BY
DARRYL ASHTON 

 

Tags: Humor,

Add Comment


Robert Kohlhammer commented on Sep 21, 2017 at 9:02am
A very well observed poem, offers the reader a subtle reminder.
Christopher Russon commented on Sep 24, 2017 at 9:49pm
Excelent poem Darryl.Well written as always.

 

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