A poem in praise or dispraise of the BBC
These tribute lines are hard to write. The reason – simply this:
That while my thoughts are thus engaged I’m rueing all I’ll miss,
There’s Radio 4 and Woman’s Hour, the Play this afternoon
And, even worse, tonight’s TV, unless I finish soon.
I’m keen to laud the BBC and render praise in rhyme
But not to forfeit listening hours or precious viewing time;
I need to follow Eggheads, watch whatever follows on,
Then catch up on EastEnders (not the same with Lucy gone).
Of global fame and world renown, the matchless BBC
Has, from the days of Mrs. Dale, meant all the world to me,
The shipping forecast bids me sleep and wakes me with a smile
And all that’s broadcast in between makes living life worthwhile.
What other service meets the mark with programmes guaranteed
To entertain, inform, delight and answer every need?
There’s more to praise but, having toiled beyond the watershed,
It’s almost time for Newsnight now. Take further praise as read!
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