Girl With One Track Mind (Sexhunters)
I Fell in Love on the Northern Line
Hail The Cabbie by Maggie Doyle
School was of no interest and so he'd played the fool.
He didn't do his homework, ignored the basic rules;
Truanted quite often, disrupted every class,
Didn't turn up for exams he knew he'd never pass.
The teachers gave up long ago; why waste their time on him,
He messed about in lessons and smoked behind the gym;
He wouldnąt go much further not even local college,
But they should not have written him off because
He got "The Knowledge".
On windy days, on greasy roads he rode his little moped,
He studied maps in plastic bags and sometimes felt quite stupid.
He missed the turns, ignored the signs, went up a one way street,
But got the thumbs up now and then from cabbies he would meet.
Day after day, week after week, regardless of the weather,
He clad himself from head to toe in a uniform of black leather,
Ambition surged within his veins, his life was very stressful but
He knew it was worth all the pain, he was going to be successful.
Now he fits the London scene as driver and as tour guide,
From Canary Wharf to Leicester Square if in his cab you ride,
He'll tell you of celebrities who've sat where you are sitting -
"I've had Madonna in this cab," and, no, he isn't kidding.
He can get you to the theatre be it day or night,
Squeezing through the tightest space at twice the speed of light.
He's something of a legend not just a taxi driver,
A confidante, a raconteur, and not least a social climber.
He sometimes dines with Ministers and is ever so discreet
About confidential documents he once found on his back seat!
Daily papers have him as a friend he hears so many things,
Now he knows just who to ask, which people pull the strings to
Get him into premieres, the in places, happening scene,
He's even been invited to meet Her Majesty The Queen.
To him his job is not just work, it really is a pleasure,
The boy did well, though teaching failed,
He's a true, national treasure.
Posted: November 2008. Copyright: Maggie Doyle