Yesterday the insurance company came to remove my burnt-out Isuzu (see Bard passim: http://www.baldockbard.co.uk/?p=1064). When it had gone I took a moment to contemplate, not only what a good car it had been but also what sights it had seen! Maybe I’m getting to be a sentimental old fool but I was sad to see it go…

They came and took my burnt Isuzu away,
It was a sad moment I’m bound to say,
They winched it up onto the lorry,
And all I could think to say was: “Sorry!”
It had been a part of the family for a number of years
The screeching of belts, crunching of gears,
Been up to the North and down to the West,
I began to remember the times that were best:

We once took it by Eurotunnel to France,
A security check was more than a glance,
They opened with haste the rear double-door,
From my coat shotgun cartridges all over the floor!
The supervisor called was not really mad
“You must be a farmer, just like my dad!
Now you’d better be gone or you’ll miss your train,
And don’t you dare bring cartridges through here again!”
Each week it’s takes the loos down to the boot sales,
Lugged loads of furniture all the way from South Wales.
It’s helped move some friends a mile down the road,
Their trailered possessions like a refugee load!
And now it has gone, to be sold off for scrap,
I know it’s a car but it’s been more than that.
It’s replacement may be shiny, showroom-style clean,
But it won’t be the character this Isuzu’s been!
© Baldock Bard 2012
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