|November 29, 2005||Posted by Secretary under Poems||
The Smallholders have an annual trip,
Up to the Highland Show,
Margaret Jobson arranges the bus,
And everyone’s invited to go
When it gets near the date,
and there’s still some vacant places,
Margaret puts an ad. in the local rag,
and it’s then we see new faces.
The bus departs at an early hour,
Picking up passengers on its way
And everyone’s bright and cheerful,
Looking foreward to the day.
Bags of sweets are passed around,
And folks chatter like “sparra’s”
You can well imagine what it’s like,
When folk meet up with their ‘marra’s”.
By the time the bus gets to the show,
Most folks have settled down,
That’s because they’re planning,
Just how best to get around.
There’s lots to see,time seems short,
So with one eye on the weather,
Folk hurry towards the entrance gate,
In pairs or grouped together.
Too soon the day is over,
And then the folk hurry back to the bus,
That’s when Margaret does a head count,
With very litle fuss.
When everyone’s accounted for,
And settled in their seat,
The driver starts the engine up,
and folk can have a bite to eat.
The journey home is quiet,
There’s no singing or noisy chatter,
Some folk snooze while others eat,
But it really doesn’t matter.
Everyone is tired out,
And there’s lots of smiling faces
Margaret agrees to run a bus next year,
If she can fill the places.