Dear Sir, Forgive me writing
But we're in need of your aid.
We've got a mounting problem
With the land that you have made.
"Lord" is your rightful title,
And no doubt this land is yours,
But we have got some issues.
Can our Landlord find the cause?
The sky above is leaking
And we're wallowing in mud.
The torrent just keeps coming
And each week brings a new flood.
I know you live above us
With your angels and good souls.
Can I prevail upon you
To inspect your pipes for holes?
We're living on the ground floor.
You are in the Penthouse Suite.
The plumbing joints are leaking
Where our two apartments meet.
I'm told this problem happened
Long ago when times were dark.
At that time you told Noah
He would have to build an ark.
I'm ready to start building
If that's what we need to do.
But if I'm really honest
I can't build a floating zoo.
Perhaps the easy answer
To the problem we have now
Would be to find a plumber
With some leak-stopping know how.
I know you're not a Slumlord,
And I really wouldn't dare
Say you've ignored this problem
Because you don't really care.
If you can't find a plumber
Please feel free to let me know.
I'm sure somebody down here
Would be set to have a go.
I'm signing off this letter
Full of hope that when you're free
You'll rectify the problem
Before we're washed out to sea.
All 254 poems by Judith Blatherwick