The whirring of their cogs has been a part of domestic life for generations, the dials a kinetic representation of the gas and electricity that fuels the appliances that feed and heat us. But is there really anything poetic about the humble gas meter?

Britain’s Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy certainly thinks so. The Scot has written a 300-word elegy to the importance of meters in our lives, as they are gradually phased out. More than 3.5 million of us already have “smart” meters, which are fully digital and make no sound at all; by 2020 all homes in the UK will be fitted with one of the devices which encourage us to cut down on energy use and mean estimated bills are no longer necessary.

Yes, the new meters are certainly a good thing. But there’s always a certain wistfulness, even sadness, at the passing of something that has been part of our collective national life for so long, and as we would expect Ms Duffy does her subject proud.

“For the whumf of the flame on the water-heater/It was shillings or florins into the meter/Like monks in cells, the meters, counting well-thumbed, numbered days and nights/beneath the energy-saving lights”.

It’s not the first time the boxes has been eulogised in art, of course – in November last year the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra performed Requiem For The Meter on instruments made entirely from household meters.

The poem will accompany a short film by Bafta-nominated Gary Tarn, with both creative responses aimed at making us think a bit more deeply about the nature of those ubiquitous boxes under the stairs; perhaps we should also spare a thought for their ability to strike fear into the hearts of the hard-up.

Like steam trains and typewriters, old-style electricity and gas meters are already part of the past; Duffy, at least, has given them the perfect send-off.