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Little Troubles and Big Troubles





In Britain June is teasing us this year,
With winds quite cold and dripping rain some days;
Then brightly shines the sun with teasing jeer,
So that our plans are at the whim of the sun’s rays.

Some days white, fluffy clouds adorn the blue.
But then grey skies sweep in to cool us down.
Our promised light evenings do not come on cue
And our disappointment makes us to frown.

But in England is a very pleasant life
And migrants clamour to come here to flee
The garishness of their life where poverty is rife.
Afric’s wound bleeds across the Middle Sea

Disgorging folk like you and me no less
Into reluctant arms with no redress.

It is well known that the English love to moan about our weather.  This poem began in that mode but then turned to the plight of migrants who are risking all to find a better life in Europe in general and Britain in particular.  This is becoming a problem of huge proportions and is already causing great concern in places such as Greece which have enough problems already.  It is no good putting our heads in the sand the problem must be dealt with.  There needs to be a European action and U.N. action.  That is what they are there for.  Why the delay?

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