The Three-Wheeled Coffee Machine

Posted on June 18, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

While waiting to pick someone up at Baldock station yesterday morning I was amazed to see almost every traveller stop to buy a coffee from a small three-wheeled coffee stall. Thinking about it later, I realised that small entrepreneurial outlets like this should be applauded. It exemplifies someone seeing a gap in the market and working hard to fill it…

Reading a classic Neville Shute,
as part of the daily commute,
a coffee sublime,
will suit you just fine,
followed by a portion of fruit!

© Baldock Bard 2015
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above

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The Baldock Boot Sale
Every Saturday until the end of October
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

The Missing Pen!

Posted on June 16, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

How often have you searched for a pen despite having recently bought a multi-pack? I am certain that at nights they play hide-and-seek and that those that win are still hiding come daybreak…

I’m sure I had a pen here today,
I remember using it yesterday.
When I find it I’ll make sure,
I’ll not lose it, or abuse it, anymore!
I’ve been looking for at least a minute,
I’m sure it’s around here, (innit?)
I’ll just get a new one from the drawer,
(before I find the missing pen on the floor!)

Pressure Washing!

Posted on June 9, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

I have long admired the poem ‘Not Waving But Drowning’ by Stevie Smith. Yesterday, while washing down a narrow boat, I tripped on the roof and nearly fell in the river. When I caught my breath I laughed with the thought of my waving being misinterpreted by those on the river bank. Not wishing to draw attention to my idiocy I had to write about someone else…

I watched someone wash a narrow boat,
Sixty-five feet long and thin,
He waved to me a greeting,
Over-balanced and then fell in!

He came up for air and waving,
Shouted to me once more,
But it was no fine greeting,
Instead I think he swore!

So I wished him well with swimming,
Taken aback by his evil frowning,
Thought as I walked on the towpath,
Was he waving to me or drowning?

Fire-pit Tales!

Posted on June 8, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

One of the great pleasures of early-summer evenings is sitting around a fire-pit after a good barbecue and telling tales. Recently, after a particularly good evening, something was left behind…

A group of friends sat round a fire-pit,
Late one summers eve,
Telling tales of daring-do,
Most that you wouldn’t believe.

As the bottles emptied,
And some began to fade,
A gentle trickle off to bed,
‘Till only one had stayed.

On the following morning,
Still sitting on his seat,
The old man shook his head and said,
“Did I fall asleep?”

The Sea Bass Twins!

Posted on June 5, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

My grand-daughter and I were standing at a fish counter the other day when we noticed some twins. Lying on ice on a hot day seemed an attractive proposition and they looked as if they were enjoying themselves by the broad grins on their faces. However looks can be deceptive…

Fish A and Fish B,
Were far from the sea,
On a very hot day in June.
Fish A said “it’s nice,
To be resting on ice,
I hope we’re not chosen too soon!”

“Look at those folk,
it must be a joke,
In this heat they may possibly swoon!”
Fish B with a fin,
Comforted him,
Knowing they would be chosen by noon!

The Travels of a Breakfast Goat!

Posted on June 2, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

My grand-daughter is fascinated by goats and this morning she and I are enjoying an early breakfast. In an effort to stave off Ms Peppa Pig or Master Thomas the Tank Engine, I am pulling tricks out of my not-yet-awake sleeve! In the end I realized there was only one trick left…

There’s a goat in the cupboard,
what are we going to do?
he want’s to go to Cambridge,
has a ticket for Timbuktu!
He doesn’t want the railway,
he wants to go by bus.
He’s demolished a bowl of Goatabix,
is making a dreadful fuss!
My grand-daughter’s told him he can stay,
make himself at home,
Now he says he’s changed his mind,
and wants to go to Rome!
He going to call a taxi,
we’ve said that can’t be right,
he has said that that’s ok,
he’ll go by goatabike!

* Picture shows Marsya’s Godmother, Aurora, in Greece with her herd of goats. It is useful to have someone to blame for an obsession other than ones-self!

STOP PRESS!
Updated photo from Greece from Aunty Aurora!

© Baldock Bard 2015
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above

Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
Every Saturday until the end of October
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

Sunday Night Supper!

Posted on May 31, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

Having my grand-daughter to stay alloys me a chance to reunite with childhood delicacies. I am able to digress in the aisles with my trolley and allow old friends back into my life. Then when she has eaten her fill and there are one or two (or more!) left in the box I strike! it would be a shame to waste them…

Fish-fingers and salt,
With salad cream,
How long ago,
Seems like a dream,
Since my mother grilled them,
On a tiny Baby Belling,
Prompting the question,
“Are those fish-fingers I am smelling?”

Jack the Russell

Posted on May 29, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

We have many discerning customers at the Saturday car boot sales we hold on the farm. This is not only because entry amd parking for buyers is free, but because the sellers bring along such fascinating items to sell. One buyer who knows, and gets, what he wants is called ‘Jack’ and is amongst the many ‘four-legged buyers’ we see each week…

Every Saturday without fail,
Jack comes to the car boot sale,
Leads his human around the field,
Wondering what today will yield!
He chooses his purchase with much care,
Always picks a teddy-bear!
Then turns his back as if to say,
“I have chosen, now you pay!”

The Windbreak Virus!

Posted on May 27, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

There is a condition known to all caravaners as AES or Awning Erection Syndrome. It can strike down any couple who attempt to erect an awning in front of others at a campsite. The difficulties faced in what should be a simple operation results in bitterness, shouting, throwing down of tools and abusive language. To non-participants, particularly those whose awnings are already erected and alcohol is to hand, it is an exciting sport worthy of the Olympics. Some bouts have gone down in the annals of caravaning and are passed from generation to generation around the plastic table.
Unfortunately there are other closely-related viruses that don’t require a caravan. One such incurable virus is WEF or ‘Windbreak Erection Failure’. This has struck down friends on their boating holiday…

John and Jane have gone away,
On a boat for a holiday.
True to say all was well,
Until they entered Windbreak Hell.
Unwrapping the poles was an easy task
“Do as I say we’ll erect it fast!
It’s a piece of cake,” John soon yawned!
“Don’t speak too soon,” Jane then warned.

The windbreak was needed, the strong wind blew,
like a vast hang-glider into the air it flew!
John cried “Jane, leave this to me!”
As he rescued the material from the nearest tree!

Two hours later,
two empty chairs,
A husband and wife making repairs!

*Names have been changed to protect the embarrassed, however be careful out there, you may well suffer next, on the beach, at the festival, in the park…!

Precious Learns!

Posted on May 26, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

On April 30^th I told you about the arrival of our five goslings: http://www.baldockbard.co.uk/?p=6898. Unfortunately we only have one left, the others having either been left behind as the geese travel vast distances around the farm or were killed by the fox. As a result the proud Mummy and Daddy (or Mummy and Mummy, or Daddy and Daddy!) are less than friendly towards me and guard ‘Precious’ very closely…

“Get away! Get away!
Don’t you come near.
We’ll make you sorry,
with a bite on your ear!”

“We’ll then chase you,
around the farm,
pen you in a corner,
and break your arm!”

“What’s that you’re carrying?
Could it be food?
To bite the hand that feeds us,
would be very rude!”

“Go on Precious,
say ‘Hello’
He’s come to feed us,
and then he’ll go!”

“Thank you Mr Farmer,
For the handful of wheat,
Do come again tomorrow,
with tasty food to eat!”

Baldock Bard

Verse and Worse from the Baldock Versemonger

Category Archives: Silly Verse