Orange was one of my favourite colours, until those cones appeared,

Finding them on every street corner, now something to be feared.

Some are upright, some upside down and others just lay on the ground,

Sand bags tied to the bottoms to keep them upright and sound.

But oh dear what a nightmare for me to behold,

Travelling alone in my car, on those cones I am not sold.

At 5.30 in the morning there are orange cones for many a mile,

And not a workman in sight which really makes me smile.

The cones were there for our safety, well that was the plan,

But they really are quite a hazard to animals and to man.

The same goes for after hours, before darkness comes upon us,

Blimey those cones are there all night, for me not much of a bonus.

In the good old days it was easy to see a large “Road Works” sign ahead,

A very clear message, keep out of the way, or you could end up dead.

So “to who-ever”, get rid of your cones when you’re finished for the day,

In the morning come back, put your safety signs up and let us pray.

That the road users and walkers are much happier and won’t complain,

About the 100s of hideous orange cones, put there to get us to abstain

From dodging and crossing where we’re not meant to, and perhaps stop all our moans,

Wishful thinking — please can we have our uncluttered streets back, free from those ghastly orange cones.

Molly Pardoe