Seven forty five, a mumbled ‘thought’,
the BBC re-tuned, for the overwrought:
Then ‘the weather’, to equate the accounts,
(we British bleed rain, in large amounts).
Headlines-recited, a modulation:
Slaughter of stock markets, our fascination.
Tea downed-cool as the BBC speaks,
this nation listens, to the half-scripted piques;
gone from the house, and our thoughts go astray,
these fears unsolved, by Thought for the Day.