Sorry. I forgot I didn't put it up here. I chickened out after all that clockwork orangery.
Here it is:
He was a well-built man, the taxi driver,
Muscles like mighty conkers stretched his vest.
He didn’t have much grasp of English, either.
When he said “postcode here”, I thought it best
To leave the cab, pay up and walk away.
“It isn’t here,” I said. “But this will do.”
“No. This your house because this what you say.
“This what you ask for and I bring you to.”
My postcode was correct; the satnav lied.
But that man’s eyes glittered like evil ice,
I couldn’t have convinced him if I’d tried;
One cannot argue with a strange device.
So, like a gratefully-escaping mouse,
I trotted up to someone else’s house.
.
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