Image from The Times, 28/3/13
Doctor Beeching, much reviled for railicide
earned a fortune making railways pay
by closing them, in his naiveté,
expecting plaudits, to be sanctified.
Old ladies, unable to shop, cried and cried;
men thrown out of work in disarray
got on their bikes – there were no trains –
Doctor Beeching was sacked and vilified.
Buses were supposed to fill the gap
but many complained it was quicker to travel by hearse,
regretting the trains that were sent for scrap.
So silly men built motorways – much worse,
in specious logic wise men claimed was cracked –
farmland lost to tarmac, with cars submersed,
One of the stations axed by Beeching was the subject of that marvellous poem Adlestrop, by Edward Thomas.
This diatribe is supposed to be a Miltonian Sonnet, as proposed by Sam Peralta at dVerse