Silicon Britons
(A Tale from the Fifties)
We’ll see them, on the bus,
Or cheering-on the football,
Or traipsing-round the National Trust,
Or belting out the Proms.
They’ll read The Times and join our clubs,
While adding to our footfall,
As they jostle in our lunchtime pubs,
And polishing their ROMs.
Maybe robots, maybe androids,
Meeting humans, kissing, breeding –
Raising mixed-race cyborgs
In the family Morris Minor.
They proudly learn to get-to-grips
With walking dogs and Sunday weeding –
British to their very microchips,
(Though made in China).
Rhyming Couplets 