Girl On The No. 47 Bus

(Girl On The) Number Forty-Seven

Monday to Friday it’s always the same,

Off to work, to carry the load:

Waiting, whatever the weather,

For that bus to trundle down the road. 

Route forty-seven is the number I need,

Though other numbers stop there too.

There’s jostling, and pushing and shoving,

As we stand there in the queue. 

Sometimes it’s full and we can’t board,

Or perhaps there’s some spaces upstairs,

Then you have to get up there quickly,

And wait for the man collecting the fares. 

But there’s one thing that I look out for,

That makes my journey complete:

The girl with the long blonde hair,

And she’s always there in the same seat. 

She rides the upper deck near the front,

Staring from the window, calm and serene.

She’s beautiful and desirable -

I’m sure you know what I mean. 

I wonder where she goes to each day,

And what could be her destination,

Cos I have to get off before she does,

As I continue my journey from the station. 

I admire her, from my seat here at the back,

Though of me I’m sure she’s quite unaware.

I don’t even know what I’d say to her,

But I try and get as close as I dare. 

She seems so cool, and calm and complete,

She looks so happy, assured and care-free.

I think she’s in a league way above me,

And I doubt if she’s ever noticed me. 

So day after day, I just think about her,

And carry on without any fuss.

I don’t even know what her name is,

She’s just “the girl on the forty-seven bus”.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 13th January 2013

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – 13^th January 2013

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

·       Shock reigned throughout the village this week as parishioners struggled to come to terms with the publication of the Report into the Jimmy Piglet vegetable abuse scandal.  Police report that Piglet, who passed away last year, is now thought to have interfered with young, immature vegetables on more than 200 occasions.  Some of these offences, particularly those involving carrots & parsnips occurred out in the fields, but several instances of broccoli-bothering and fennel-fiddling are thought to have taken place whilst the vulnerable vegetables were in storage.

·       Parishioners are torn by the choice of political routes forward in Wiltshire.  The Field Land-Owners’ Party (FLOP) favour negotiating a looser relationship of the village from central control in Trowbridge, but the Carrot-Rooters’ Action Party (CRAP) would prefer to see closer ties.  Meanwhile the central-ground Workers’ Horticultural Organisation (WHO) said ‘what was the question again?’

·       For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Special

Special

The careful unpacking of the car

Its safety seat unclipped, unbuckled

Passed gently in to waiting hands

Its cossetted cargo

Wrapped up warmly against any chill

Cocooned in blankets

Tissue-paper protection

For this long-dreamed-of new life

Fragile, precious

The son and heir

The only one 

The practised transfer

Into the bumpered baby-buggy

Strapped and buckled

Armoured against a hostile world

Barriered for resilience

Protected against a reality

Of bangs and cuts and scrapes

Or cold and germs

Screened and sheltered

Lest any danger should penetrate

Multi-layered defences

And give the slightest cause

For any concern 

Fiercely treasured

Special beyond measure

An antiseptic existence

Preserved in layers of cotton-wool

This first and only child

Kept from all possible harm

And dangers of the world

Loved and feared in equal measure

By his doting parents

Who will do anything

To ensure his survival

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Smoke In The Woods

Smoke In The Woods

Footfalls muffled by leaf-mould

Springy turf of grass and lichen

Amongst the dark and louring trees

Their trunks tall and straight

Like rigid columns

Holding up the canopy

That shades the lower cultures

Bud-laden, thick and lush

The saplings and the bushes

Of the under-growth 

And among the monumental beeches

Pierced by glittering

Flickering sunlight shafts

Hangs a hazy skein of wood-smoke

Diaphanous, gauzy

Floating, drifting slowly

Its fingers circling higher branches 

And within the greater silence

Where there is no bird-song

Nor any rodent scuttlings

That seem to carry any distance

Through the empty forest

There penetrates the faintest crackling

Of twigs and logs upon a fire

A simple sound of comfort

And promise of human warmth 

The smells of damp and ash

And simple cooking, stronger now

Than natural woodland aromas

Betraying the location

Of a camp-site under canvas

Hidden in a hollow

Among the dark, dank greenery

Of wet vegetation

Near the stream

A lonely retreat

Far from any crowd

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

How Are The New Year's Resolutions Going?

Resolution

Oh it will be different this time,

And things are going to change around here.

I’ve made up my mind, you see,

As we head out into the New Year. 

I’m going to give up on the smoking:

I’ve got no further use for the fags.

No longer will tobacco hold me in thrall:

I’ve taken my very last drags. 

I’ll have to cut down on my drinking,

And make no exceptions for beer.

Cause alcohol’s doing me no good,

And chewing up my liver I fear. 

And getting much thinner’s a must:

I’m going to lose lots of weight.

I’ll be a quite different person,

When I get down to nine stone eight! 

There’s going to be more exercise,

As part of my new daily routine.

I just can’t wait to get on with it -

Yes – I’m really terribly keen! 

And I’m going to get my finances in order –

I’ll be saving more, do you hear?

And I’ll be simply rolling in money,

When we get to the end of the year. 

It’s just a matter of discipline,

And plotting progress on a chart.

Oh yes, I really mean it this time -

I’m going to make a completely new start. 

You’re looking at someone with resolution,

Whatever it costs me in sorrow.

All I have to do is to get started,

But I can worry about that tomorrow!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Cherry & Almond Cake

Recipe for: CHERRY & ALMOND CAKE 

Ingredients: 

• 200g butter, softened
• 200g golden caster sugar
• 4 eggs
• ½ tsp almond extract
• 175g self-raising flour
• 85g ground almonds
• ½ tsp baking powder
• 300g glace cherries
• 100ml milk
• 2 tblsp flaked almonds

Method: 

1. heat the oven to 160C/ 140C fan/ gas 3
2. line the base & sides of a 20cm deep cake tin with grease-proof & butter it
3. beat together the butter & sugar until light & fluffy, then beat in the eggs one by one, ensuring that each is well incorporated before adding the next
4. fold in the almond extract, flour, ground almonds and baking powder, followed by the cherries (see below) and milk
5. scrape the mixture into the prepared tin & scatter over the flaked almonds on the top
6. bake for 1 hour to 75 minutes, or until the cake has risen with a golden-brown top, and a skewer comes out cleanly
7. cool the cake on a wire rack before serving

What else you need to know: 

1. if you want the cherries to be distributed throughout the cake, cut them up a bit.  If you leave them whole, they will tend to gather towards the bottom

 

Renaissance

Renaissance

Suddenly, there, within the soil

In the iron grip of frozen ground

Are thin, small cracks

That break the crust

Of Winter’s solid surface

And poking through

Are tips of something green

Pointing at the glassy sky

Seeking new-year’s light

Shoots of new life

From long-buried bulbs

Forgotten since a year ago

Alive again after all

Their tentative return

From their barren sleep

A miracle of remembering

Cold, bold fingers of new growth

Awoken by the spinning of the Earth

The Spring cycle of re-birth

And a testament to memory

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013