Much like any other God <br />most people <br />never saw him coming. <br />Yet when he spoke <br />it boomed <br />no ignoring him. <br />He was Paddy <br />the God of Albert road, <br />resident deity <br />of the A6. <br />His loud prophecies <br />almost Biblical. <br />In that they, <br />passeth all <br />understanding. <br />Possibly <br />due to <br />the cloud cover <br />between his <br />idea of heaven <br />and ours. <br /> <br />A down to earth God <br />who rode <br />a small bicycle <br />festooned <br />in tinsel and day glow <br />orange tape. <br />Not quite <br />your <br />traditional fiery chariot <br />but <br />on Stockport road <br />it seemed <br />fitting. <br /> <br />No need of a Gabriel. <br />this God <br />bulbhorn, hand, and <br />handlebars <br />were for him, <br />even in the rush hour <br />always. <br />In communion. <br />A self reliant saviour <br />offering <br />blessings whilst <br />dodging <br />heavy traffic. <br /> <br />Somewhat untypically. <br />He was not <br />A vengeful God. <br />His unholy bark being <br />infinitely worse <br />than his <br />unpractised bite. <br />Though, <br />in truth <br />and passing, <br />his language <br />could, sometimes <br />be choice. <br /> <br />On high and holy days <br />when he chose <br />To ride <br />amongst us. <br />He donned his <br />celestial shades. <br />offerings of <br />some old earthly <br />lucky bag. <br />They were his <br />Shields <br />against the fallen. <br /> <br />Yet it is written <br />Gods, like stolen cars, <br />are often left, <br />burned out and <br />abandoned. <br />I still remember <br />the days <br />he rode out to <br />offer benediction <br />to bus drivers <br />and remind <br />noise dazed shoppers <br />that <br />Paddy <br />the God of Albert road. <br />Liveth!<br /><br />Bill Mitton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-god-of-albert-road/
