John Gibson: He’s a poet and doesn’t know it

POETIC or pathetic? We’ve just had Edinburgh’s Autumn Holiday Monday, so what the hell! We have first-timer rhymer in our midst and the man merits a break.

His specific topic is one close to every Edinburgher’s heart. No prizes for guessing it’s the blasted trams. Alastair Mowat, a former director of Scottish & Newcastle in their days of yore at Holyrood, wine connoisseur and celebrated carver of roast beef, hereby gets traumatic things off his chest. He titles it ‘‘Waiting for No-Go’’

I think that I shall never see

A tram proceeding easterly

And as for that I’ll never know

The vehicle on wester flow

Our council and their German friends

Will never ever make amends

Our roads remain ruptured mess

Which brings for all both storm and stress

Diverted buses wend their way

Through streets bizarre, wan and fey

Our bus stops we know not where they are

Routes may take you near or far

We have some rails that near are laid

Twice interred and then re-made

All in all, it’s such a shame

And it seems there’s none to blame

All the bosses flee their stations

Just in time for compensation

Oh the horror, or the pity

That besets our ancient city

Clearly our No-Go rhymer has got his mojo working. You’re a natural poet, Mr Mowat, and it would appear you don’t know it.