Morning Paper (A Belated Bouquet) Poem by A. P. Herbert

Morning paper? Here you are!
Morning papers everywhere—
Bed or breakfast—tram or car.
'Nothing in it.' But it's there.

Banging bombs and sweating men—
Nights of terror in the Street:
But they cannot stop the pen,
And the printer can't be beat.

There is havoc in the town,
And the telephone is dumb,
Milkman's late—a bridge is down—
But the morning paper's come.

Yes, they also serve the King,
Though their medals may be rare.
'Nothing in it?' 'Not a thing.'
Yet be thankful it is there.
September 17, 1944