Mrs Moffat sold tomatoes,
Postal orders, ginger pop,
There was hardly any village –
But she ran the village shop,
‘Clouding over’, she would say.
‘Well we need a bit of rain,’
She had ten bob on the Derby
And the weather on the brain!
But she pottered and she prattled
And was something of a bore,
Yet we’re missing Mrs Moffat
At the supermarket store.
Now a wall of glass, illuminated
For spectacular display,
Has usurped her little window
Which has had its little day.
Where she beamed across the counter
Having done her best to cope,
You may saunter now in silence
Round a pyramid of soap.
Gone the prattle, gone the muddle,
Gone the tinkle at the door,
It’s all too superhuman
At the supermarket store.
Ah! The pastries and detergents
In extravagant supply –
You emerge with more than double
That you ever meant to buy.
Here’s exactly what you wanted,
So it hardly matters much
If the only missing item
Is the common human touch.
Not a syllable of gossip,
Not a murmur, nothing more,
I can’t help missing Mrs Moffat
At the supermarket store.
(Christopher Hassall)
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Based on Topics: Mind Poems, Silence Poems, Brain Poems, Weather Poems, Boredom Poems, Gossip PoemsBased on Keywords: muddle, clouding, item, usurped, derby, superhuman, prattled, postal, supermarket, spectacular, pastries