Windmills
Ev’rytime I see their ugly,
Stark-white Jack-less beanpoles, mile-on-mile,
Then I smile.
These lopsided, drunken wheels,
Mercedes-wannabes, without the style,
Makes me smile.
Scarring hilltops, nailing fens,
A cage encircling round this sceptred isle –
Worth a smile.
But ev’ry time I see a manor house
With Tudor chimney-pots a-smoke,
Makes me choke.
Rhyming Couplets 