Mum's mum enjoyed writing poetry and here is a good example: London's Suburbs Look right and look left as you halt at the kerb here, Salute to the pattern of London's suburbia! All hail to these tree-lined trim, grass verged highways Maintained by the council on alternate Fridays, Salute to our three-bedroomed space-saving boxes, Our country 'town-houses' - brick built paradoxes. Is this then the 20th century look. This the direction that history took? Four acres per cottage - Elizabeth's order, (Can we imagine a more gracious border?) That were a green belt exceedingly pretty Here on the outskirts of England's chief city. Alas! Speculators had plotted to fence it Anonymous deserts of streets were created Nothing designed and nothing related. Vanished the legacy Inigo left us Gone is the spirit of Wren to direct us. Oh, to go back to the satellite village, Back to the meadow, the farms and the tillage, Back to the 'Hall' and the Green and the smithy, To the days of 'Gadzooks', 'I faith sir' and 'Prithee' Back to the homes built to live, love and be in Not just to sleep in or just watch TV in. Useless to grumble, our fears come too late Progress is marching at too fast a rate 'Here to continual gardens' wrote Stow Continual houses are all that we know.