AN OLD TIME OUTING
Wasn’t it great the day that we went
To ride the tram from Seaton?
Hours in the coach were time well spent
To go by tram to Colyton.
Quaint machine of an earlier era,
Fancy rails and gleaming paint,
One reserved for our mixed party,
“All aboard” with no complaint.
Some inside, most on top,
Outside in the wind and sun,
Narrow spiral stair to climb up,
Narrow seats. Wait for the fun!
Driver shouts us his instructions.
Pantograph is hooked in place.
Then he pulls the driver’s handle.
Off we go at gentle pace.
Tight curves twisting, we turn eastward.
Bright canoes on the River Axe.
Signal halts us for some minutes,
Another tram is on the tracks.
Time to watch the lush, green meadows.
Happy rabbits in the grass.
Those long sleek ones must be hares,
Unconcerned as we glide past.
Now behind a bush, we spot him,
Large red fox lies at his ease!
Lambs are gambolling, walkers rambling.
Birdsong fills the alder trees.
Out on mudbanks, others feeding.
A cormorant spreads wide his wings.
Handsome geese and three ducks flying!
A wealth of such exciting things.
Finally we get to Colyton.
Drop our coins into the well.
Admire the pretty, care-for station.
Welcoming café, tasty smells.
Browse a while to do our shopping.
Sit a while to sup our tea.
Climb back on, returning journey,
Rattling slowly, down to the sea.
Gorgeous hillsides, rippling river,
Green reeds show above the tide.
Tram of twitchers waits sedately.
Our tram hoots as we pass alongside.
Cattle grazing, sheep are lazing.
Final drama, just in time,
A heron rises from the pasture,
Flies before us, along the line!
Thank you all at Seaton Tramway
For two hours of great delight.
We’ll tell friends, “it was electric!”
Magic experience, we won’t forget.
GOING TO THE GLOBE
Steaming up the motorway.
Cars below engulfed in spray.
Couched in our coach,
We warily watched
July rain drowning
Field and carriageway.
At last the theatre,
Quaint and unworldly,
Welcomed us warmly
For our tour and play.
About the Jew.
The very place,
We already knew,
Was reborn and rebuilt
Because of the dream
Of one of his race.
And the rain, rain, rain
Came down, down, down
And washed right through
The lift shaft!
So we were told
To walk back round
And wait ‘till
It had halted.
Our guide was great.
Her talk explained
With humour
And with patience.
We looked
And marvelled
At Globe, new again,
And revelled
In its presence.
The sun returned
To brighten our day;
We sat by the Thames
To wait for the play.
Ate our picnic
Beneath blue sky,
Watching the world
And his wife go by.
At last it was time.
Hard seats were found
Within the wooden ‘O’.
A loud bell rang,
Actors began
A performance full of gusto!
His words sprang to life,
Spoken with fervour.
Their meaning made clear
By faces and gesture.
The Bard always gives
Blank verse to treasure.
Pathos and comedy,
Mixed for good measure.
Calm or athletic,
The players in role,
Could move or delight us,
Within their control.
Words wove their magic.
Emotion ran high.
When “revels were ended”
Our applause rose –
To the open sky!
Crawling out of London,
Toiling down the motorway
Nose to tail, we struggled
On the journey
Homeward.
Estimated two hours,
Stretched to over double.
Driver battled patiently
Among countless commuters.
Making way painfully,
All trapped inexorably
In humming, roaring sound.
And the extra problem,
Thousands upon thousands;
Desperate holidaymakers
Hapless, helpless, hopeless,
Trying to move southward,
Westward, just awayward!
Inching slowly onward,
Outward bound.
