I count each road as Heaven-sent
As I don't own the street,
I don't own the nearby pavement
I walk on with my feet.
I don't own the local night lights
Displaying smelly drains,
I don't have deeds or any rights
For avenues or lanes.
And although I seldom travel,
I still don't own one bit,
I don't own a pothole's gravel
Or one full hand of grit.
I haven't got a hovercraft,
I haven't got a tank,
I haven't got a yacht or raft,
With what's left in my bank.
My shopping comes right to my door,
Nice folks do that for me.
That's why I couldn't ask for more!
No car! No M.O.T.
I may live for a hundred years
And yet not drive at all,
Not facing fines that cause folks tears
And drive them up the wall!
I park my plane on my flat roof
So I don't get a fine!
I know you think that's not the truth!
But where can I park mine! ?
Denis Martindale.4th of August 2026.
Here is a parking problem poem by the Poemhunter poet Denis Martindale. There have been some changes that will create even more parking problems for millions of people in the UK. The public doesn't own the city streets or the pavements, and now people are wondering if they can park their cars on their own driveways. As for little old me, I don't own a car or a motorbike.
I get my shopping delivered. Even though I pay for the deliveries, I don't leave my home to go wandering around a supermarket for an hour. I don't have to worry about car insurance, repair costs or travelling accidents.
Mind you, as a pensioner, I don't have to go to work and risk my life travelling there and back 500 times a year, whether it's for the Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem