Lament for the Closure of a Waitrose

Woe is me! For my Waitrose is closing.

The supermarket for the comfortable middle class is no more.
People from less affluent neighbourhoods say "where now is their Waitrose?
But it is become a Lidl.
Folk come from Oadby and Blaby, from Wollaton and Ashbourne
but the Waitrose is not.
In vain do I wander the aisles of Aldi
seeking "Essentials" pimento-stuffed olives.
 I weep as I look for the gravadlax
and the self-service salad bar
but they have been taken down from their place
and now there are tins of vegetables with strange brand names
and I do not recognise them.
Our house prices are in decline.
Soon shall they be as low as Newark or even Retford.
And the press prowl around like lions in the Negev
or wolves on the hills
concentrating on the good schools in the area
with a passing mention for those who lose their jobs.
But I comfort myself that the Internet shall provide
I shall take me to the Waitrose website
and there buy my organic milk
and my Scottish Heather honey.
I shall be glad in the finest of 2014 Bordeaux wines
and the purest of extra-virgin olive oil.
And I shall invite my friends to dinner parties
all the Saturdays of my life.

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