It Poem by Martin Ward

It

Politicians
and celebrities
talk it.
Thoughtless owners
dog walk it.

Next door's cat
on my garden leaves it.
Readers of tabloid
papers believe it.

In Tudor times
folks would wattle and daub it.
In recent times
Prime Ministers absorb it.

Armitage Shanks
make money out of it.
Rich city bankers
avoid the fall-out of it.

Fans were made to cool
and hit it.
Doorstep salesmen
rarely omit it.

When added to soil
this stuff enriches it.
It seems to me
that life is full of it.

Listen for what
is missing from it:
shhhhhhhh............