I would like to thank the kind person who suggested that my blog was worse than termite poo (censored version). It’s always most encouraging when you are attempting to be creative to know that you have such a supportive audience. Nevertheless I consoled myself with the reassurance that we don’t get termites in the UK, let alone Baldock…

I drove to Baldock yesterday morning,
The day was cloudy, with sun,
I parked in the market to go to the bank,
And thought to myself, ‘this is fun’!

A man in sheer terror started shouting,
“For God’s sake don’t go down there,
They’re running amok in the library,
They’ve got the librarian caught by the hair!”

Somebody else was shouting,
His hair was wet and was lank,
“I was in the barber’s chair early,
They came into there from the bank!”

A weeping bride stood on the pavement,
her dress was all stained with green,
“Their leader gave me a slobbery kiss,
He’s coming back to make me his queen!”

The sweet shop was utterly deserted,
The baker’s was all empty too,
The butcher surveyed his now-empty shop,
“They didn’t listen, when they came, I said Shoo!”

I approached the Library with caution,
I could hear a strange rustling sound,
When I looked in through the doorway,
There was sawdust-like mess on the ground.

Giant termites were working through fiction,
Already eaten the books from abroad,
One had hold of a pensioner,
While one munched with delight on a board

Their hairy leader (called Yerodump),
Turned to me with a sneer,
“It’s all your fault for your writing!
Without your crap rhymes we wouldn’t be here!”

I faced up to the horrible creature,
“You smell so much worse than a rat!”
With head bowed he started to tremble,
“No one’s ever informed me of that!”

He let go of the librarian’s tresses,
Said “Come on chaps, we really must go,”
Last I heard they were all surviving,
On benefits, in a tower block, down in Bow!

© Baldock Bard
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