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Jessie Pope - Motor Martyrdom
Work rating: Low

I never have clung to a motor car, 
Or crouched on a motor bike. 
Worry and scurry, clank and jar 
I cordially dislike. 
I do not care for grimy hair, 
For engines that explode, 
But of one and all I`ve the put and call, 
For I live on the Ripley Road. 

I drank the country breeze at first, 
Unsoiled by fetid fumes, 
But now I am cursed with a constant thirst 
That parches and consumes. 
I am choked and hit with smoke and grit 
When I venture from my abode; 
My pets are maimed and my eyes inflamed, 
For I live on the Ripley Road. 

I pass my days in a yellow fog, 
My nights in a dreadful dream, 
Haunted by handlebar, clutch and cog, 
And eyes that goggle and gleam. 
I am not robust, but I dine on dust 
Gratuitously bestowed, 
And for twopence I`ll sell my house in the dell 
By the side of the Ripley Road.
Source
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