Grandparents and Grandchildren (made for each other!)

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Last October I became Grandfather Bard. This week the Prince of Wales became one too. There are many different types of grandparent. These days some are more hands-on than at any time in history. The role of child-minder is possibly not one that Prince Charles will fulfill, but I sincerely hope he finds time to spend with his new grandchild. Speaking from experience, it is most rewarding.
Some weeks ago I took a photo of two generations walking together in a park. On a morning where many millions of words are available on the birth of a grandchild, I can find no words that convey the respect or love between two generations as much as this photograph…
Generations© Baldock Bard 2013
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The Royal Baby!

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CotI received an email yesterday from a publishing company urging me to buy a ‘Royal Baby Special’. It lead me to wonder if journalists had already written two editions, one destined for the newsagents and the other for a collectors fair in 2095! I suspect we are awaiting a tsunami of words, so I thought I’d better get in there first…

Will it be a boy?
Will it be a girl?
Will he wear sailor suits?
Or pink dresses which she’ll twirl?

Will he be a ‘thinker’,
Who sits all alone?
Or will she be a reformer,
Who does away with the throne?

We’ll not have Prince Colin,
Or Princess Tia for sure,
I think they’ll follow tradition,
And have Elizabeth once more.

All this is conjecture,
The first answered any day,
All we can hope most sincerely,
Is mother and baby are ok.

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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The Caravanner Club Committee!

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CaravanI have never completely understood some people’s hatred of caravaners. I realise they drive at 60mph, they group together like camels and are driven by Mail readers who are called Frank and Betty, but is that enough to vilify their hobby? However there are some, members of ‘The Committee’, who make better targets. They organise the rallies to which keen club members flock at weekends. It is their responsibility to make sure that every rule, no matter how insignificant, is followed to the letter and that the myriad of un-matched folding chairs are placed for the ‘Flagpole Ceremony’ on Sunday Morning! It is they who ordain that all caravans must be parked facing inwards, regardless of the view, and that new members are clearly shown the ropes (or the door!). However I have to admit admiration for anyone who gives of their time for the sake of others so here’s to the committee, Gawd bless ’em…

Frank and Betty are on the committee,
So are June and Kev,
They’re now superior beings,
Unlike Steve and Bev!
They’re on the road Monday morning,
They’re had an extra night,
It’s a privilege from running the rally,
They claim it is their right!
They’re in charge of the tea urn,
And the flagpole too,
They’ve had to collect the pitch fee,
Responsibility construe.
So Monday mornings they’re on the road,
Unlike ordinary ‘vanners’,
Next weekend it’s another ‘team’,
Four rally-hardened planners!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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The Art Installation!

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InstallationI’ve always been very critical of what I have sometimes referred to in the past as ‘non-Art’. Unmade beds and cross-sectioned animals in formaldehyde did nothing to inflate my boat, let alone float it. Therefore when I was invited to the unveiling of an ‘installation’ on Saturday evening by the famous Ukranian artist Ivalotof Pistak, I was tempted to stay at home and rearrange my stamp collection. However sense prevailed and I was entranced as the artist turned an ordinary tree into a magical ‘shrine of light’…

We sat in a circle around a tree,
When music started (out of key).
And in front of us on the third refrain,
Stood a famous artist from Ukraine.

She started to howl,
She started to shake,
And very soon installation make!
Coloured ropes and balloons with light,
Illuminated tree by fall of night!

The audience clapped,
The audience cheered,
And just like that,
She disappeared!

Come the morning,
For all to see,
‘Twas back to being,
An ordinary tree!
Installation2© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Visiting Big Sky Country!

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Fen1Yesterday son-in-law John and I travelled north to the Fens. These are the UK’s answer to Montana – Big Sky Country. However we weren’t there to look at the long-range view, but to visit the co-operative that sells all our grain and see their new multi-million pound store. I hadn’t been there for nearly ten years and like an aged uncle at a family reunion was tempted to do some head-patting and say “My, haven’t you grown!” However perhaps the most important part was meeting the staff, most of whom I knew so well on the phone but had never met…
Fen 2The Cambridgeshire Fens are very very flat,
You can see for miles, just fancy that!
Up near March is a large grain store,
It’s called Fengrain (I’ve mentioned them before!)
They sell our oats, beans and wheat,
Because they’re a co-operative it means we can compete.
I drove up to Wimblington just yesterday,
For their new stores opening on a bright and sunny day!
We had a trip around the enormous store,
All so much bigger than it ever was before!
But that’s not the reason I drove all the way from home,
I got to meet the people I know only on the phone!
So thank-you Fengrainers for all you do for me,
Without your caring expertise the poorer I would be!
Fen 3Dedicated to all the wonderful staff who have made Fengrain such a success over the last 40 years!
© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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The Sinking Phone!

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Hazels Lost PhoneHazel attempting to send a text on the nearest available power tool!
Friend Hazel has lost her phone. Unfortunately its last ringtone was ‘plop’ as it fell into the River Great Ouse. Surprisingly husband Matt (Big Matt, the Handy Handyman), refused to leap into the river to save it from a watery grave. Some have cruelly suggested that her next phone should have Handel’s Water Music as the ringtone or River Deep (mountain high). However all is not lost as the phone has been adopted by a group of fresh-water mussels and is enjoying its new life…

What’s that floating in the river?
Oh look it’s Hazel’s phone!
No more calls it will deliver,
From its watery home!

No more pictures will it send,
It’s battery life is over,
Perhaps it’s looking for a friend?
Or a dogfish that’s called Rover!

It is ‘singing with the fish’,
That Electric Eel’s a shocker!
It is happy in its new home now,
In Davy Joneses Locker!

Big Matt the Handyman is in the West Cambs/North Beds area NOW!
Call 07725 007 454
He may be tall, but no job’s too small!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Once a Knight…always a Knight!

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Once a KnightI was poking my nose into some local history yesterday when I came across a tale of a mysterious knight that lived long ago. Adding together bits and pieces and making up what I couldn’t discover (like a true historian), I came up with his story. It may be slightly less than authentic, but it sounds good to me…

There once was a kindly knight,
Who was ever so polite,
He’d say to you,
before he ran you through,
“I don’t mean it, much, goodnight!”

One day while riding his horse,
He met a damsel in distress (of course!)
She swooned at his offer,
a lift he did proffer,
Carried her off without sign of force!

She bore him a son and an heir,
With the brightest and reddest ginger hair!
At the time of conception,
he ignored the reception,
So a knave nipped smartish in there!

The king took his knight off to war,
Was the last of him that she saw,
His words in the fight:
“That hurts, Ouch! Goodnight!”
And they buried him near Bangalore!

I bet a wonder you’ve one?
Whatever happened to the son?
He lost the plot,
was called Laugh-a-Lot,
Was the heir with the hair who was fun!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Famous for his Shirt!

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Not RooneyHave you ever met anyone famous? Did you know what to say or did you get someone to take one of those ‘look-I’m-now-friends-with-a-famous-person’ Facebook shots? A famous footballer comes to the car boot sale quite regularly. Last weekend I missed a ‘world exclusive’ when I failed to ask him if he had any plans to change clubs. He always wears his name on the back of his shirt to remind himself and his team-mates who he is, looks genuine enough to me…

One morning a man from slumber arose,
Went to the boot sale to buy some new clothes!
He hadn’t a clue-ny
with a shirt that said Rooney,
Can’t be his name as everyone knows!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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The Royal Reporter!

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Basic PAYEHer Majesty the Queen has been busy on the computer lately. In the guise of HMRC (Her Majesty’s Revenue & Customs) she has completely changed their PAYE (Pay As You Earn) programme. No longer does she require your figures at the end of each tax year, she commands you to send them immediately using RTI (real-time information). Unfortunately Her Majesty decided on using a different format to the one in use up to the end of the last tax year, and this has led to some confusion (certainly for me if not for others). However I am desperately attempting to contort myself so that I can award myself a pat on the back. After a very long morning yesterday, the Queen’s new programme is up and running and I am able to report to her every month. “Arise Sir Baldock?…”

The Queen and I are now quite close,
We no longer communicate by post,
We talk to each other every month,
when I furnish Ma’am with loads of bumpf.
I hope that our figures will always agree,
when she gets to see my PAYE!
Corgis yap around her feet,
as she checks to see if my return is complete!
The Duke mutters loudly “It’s not that hard,
if it can be understood by the Baldock Bard!”

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Buttons the Pirate!

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Friends have a dog called Buttons. Yesterday the vet had to remove one of Button’s eyes. Buttons has been transformed in an instant. Known locally as ‘a mild-mannered and gentle sort’, the operation has revealed an alter ego: The Pirate Buttons, leader of the craziest bunch of smuggling cut-throats that ever wore a dog collar! Don’t anyone dare mention Cinderella or pantomimes, you could find yourselves sent to Davy Jones’s Locker (Oh yes you will! Oh no you won’t! repeat until bored)…

Buttons is a pirate,
Rules the Severn Seas!
His deputy head,
is a Setter (red),
who never ever says ‘please!’

A parrot on the shoulder,
A patch upon the eye!
A single slash,
with a cutlass rash,
watch out passers by!

The gang are ruthless cut-throats,
A Doberman tried to blag!
Walked the plank,
outside the bank,
head covered by a used poo bag!

Around Topsham in Devon,
Where there smugglers be!
In darkened bars,
selling hooky jars,
of Pedigree Chum for tea!

Get Well Soon Buttons!
Pirate Buttons
© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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