“Hello luv - I’m on the train.”

This she said again and again.

First - to her son sojourning in France,

then to her daughter off to a dance -

then to her hubby at work in Leeds -

then to her boss to whom she pleads

she’ll be late for work - but blames the trains.

Yes - she has the file that contains

the number of pants his buyer require,

and yes - the price of silk is dire.

Her voice was loud and very shrill,

and we all went through much squirming ‘till

a man of consequence and skill

went in for a most dynamic kill.

He plucked the mobile from her hand,

and smiling sweetly made a stand

for decent people everywhere

by stamping on it then and there.

A cheer rang out from every seat,

such courage you don’t often meet.

There should be a mobile killing day,

a public service I would say.