Have you heard of the train they're
That is going to fly up to Yorkshire
Buy one get one free on main course and specials excludes fillet steaks and beef Wellington
Must book to qualify 01209 860332 and present voucher on arrival
Mon- Thur 6-9pm
Contact: 01209 700617
Valid until: Saturday, December 21 2013
And to the Midlands from our
Capable capital and knock just
Twenty minutes off the journey
And is going to cost us all a hundred
Billion or so but most like an extra two
And so while the rest of us ride on
A national railway line of old
Barely movable over full rolling
The government is going to spend
The nation's last pots of cash
On giving jobs and profits yet
Again to its supporters and mates
Besides who actually wants to
Save twenty minutes or so
When what the nation really wants
Is to sit down and travel safe
And work as they commute
And in comfort wherever they go
For to spend so much money on a
Train such as this is to go around
When there are hundred of projects
That could be founded that would
Make far more sense and real profits
In fact in the end
And what of the wildlife and the
Or the beautiful houses and farms
That will be pulled down or have
Their land split in uneconomic two?
But one can't but think that when
You allow a country to be governed
By any kind of public school kids
Be they from whatever party
They just haven't got a clue as to
What it is the nation needs most
So as to secure a future that is not
Just for a privileged few or a bunch
Of 'up your's Jack' high speed rail spivs!
Sow; we've carved through our countryside
Cutting motorways clean,
And we've sprawled all our housing
On brown fields and green.
Now turbines like trees
Chop white noisy air,
And fresh crops are of metal,
They're solar and square.
Land is a premium,
Let's drill in the sea.
Fix quotas and climate
Change plastics, pay freeze.
We're driving and turning
Our lease in a spin;
There's spoil for our soil
And the oxygen's thin.
Should we rewind the planning,
The pace and the chase;
Or spin faster and burn up
A green speck in space?
My husband gave me flowers, in colours bright and gay.
When I put them in some water, one flower head was hanging down.
The stem it had been broken, it was almost cut right through
I thought that this poor flower, would very soon be dead.
I intended to remove it, but my husband he said no.
It was a thing of beauty, though it's head it hung down low.
For two weeks I've enjoyed them, but sadly I have found,
The flowers they are now fading, the petals falling down.
Except for a lovely carnation, which is as good as new.
Apart from the fact, it is still hanging down, from a badly broken stem.
I wonder if some people, do think just as I did.
When something is not perfect, there's no point in keeping it.
Some people they have problems, are not like me or you.
But we should all remember, they still have things to give.
Just an Ordinary Appointment
'It's Myeloma', the doctor said, 'a cancer of the bone'.
We huddled close together,
Together, but alone.
A mute distress swept over us
Tear fighting place with fear
As we struggled to take in words
Surely only others would ever hear.
'On average', he intoned, 'you'll have three to four years',
Just a matter of fact statement,
Then, in an attempt to allay her fears,
'but you could live much longer',
He said, smiling gaily,
'I'm only talking thereabouts'.
A message he practiced daily.
I flickered a sideways glance, numbed, in a daze.
My darling wife was nodding,
her unblinking eyes set on his face;
As though he had just told her
that the most natural thing in life
Was that she had a killing disease.
but he had said it to my wife.
The corridors were peopled, a million miles away,
As we walked in our own tight world
No words we had to say.
They laughed and joked and chattered,
As we had done when life was fair.
Not thinking of those around us
Who had just heard more than they could bare.
So life has changed forever, from the moment we awake
Private thoughts weigh on our shoulders,
Tight smiles and chuckles are a fake.
But my wife is Courage Incarnate,
And she'll battle all the way.
With the family's love around her
She'll live to dance another day.
A Special Child
Amid the glowing sunshine a babe was born to be King!
A special child will he now become fulfilling his destiny.
He sleeps, now with not a care, and a Mother full of delight this day.
A proud father keeps a watchful eye as his child's first night slips by.
Upon this scene – in time to come he will find his Queen.
Learning quickly from his peers, he will grow wisely in his formative years.
Yet to come the sound of cheering and the uniforms he will be wearing.
Pomp and circumstance enduring will he have Diana's caring touch?
For as he grows quickly, come what may he will reign as King one day!
Thus for those who now look on avidly for a glimpse of the baby, it won't be long!
Soon the day will come when "he" will put all in the shade, a King!
Thus then, when his subjects to him their due homage will pay, gladly.
As in many years to come his Queen might bear him a song?
For now as his life begins on a glittering summers day in July,
The awaiting crowds wish their homage to pay hooray, hooray, hooray!
A Moment in Memory
A leaf falls
As a teardrop
From the eye
A passing thought
A moment in memory
We're getting to where we want to go
We're rushing along
We won't go slow
We're getting to where we want to go.
And that's what's most important!
Dead bodies strewn along the way
Of badger, fox and carrion crow
but we're getting to where we want to go
And that's what's most important!
They never will return to home
On well trodden paths,
Their need to roam.
Still we're getting to where we want to go
And that's what's most important?
The young fox
Lying bloodied and cold
He never was taught the green cross code
But we're getting to where we want to go
So that's what's most important.
The badger's body limp and torn
Won't get to see another dawn
Her offspring wait for her in vain
She never will return again.
Slow down if you can
It just might mean
The difference between
And so many deaths.
Thank you for listening.
Name & address supplied
Portas Pilot Scheme A poetic review
Mary Portas believes in the High Street and she offered her ideas for change
that could revitalise the retail shops with solutions of wide-reaching range
Liskeard is one of the Pilot towns to participate in this scheme
Awarded a hundred thousand pounds could it really fulfil every dream?
Town Team met Mary and showed her around there was much to be done, she could see
As a start she invited the volunteers in to start painting the shops – for free
Benches for visitors and flowers appeared, shop windows were filled up with stock
Musicians and dancers performed in the street – giving shoppers a bit of a shock.
There was no magic wand – just work and goodwill and a wish for the plan to succeed
The Town Team now sits on the Council – a position from which they can lead
Mary's programme highlighted a few shops when, in spring, it was shown on TV
Now visitors to the town say they have to come to find out what else they can see.
With a Charter that dates back hundreds of years a market's been held here non-stop
Then mining for copper on Caradon Hill gave Victorians money to shop
Nestled in Cornwall, surrounded by sea, farms, moors and the big open skies
Once more we will make it a town of renown to discover by all, with surprise.
Food, flowers, books, clothes and TVs fill the shops; computers are also for sale
Refreshments will help to revive you, then – you can follow the Heritage Trail
Arts and craft centres, the library, too, and museum can fill up your day
An indoor sports centre offers plenty to do for those with enough time to play.
Buses and main line trains come from all over, including a branch lie from Looe
As will be found, this old market town thrives, as it integrates everything new
Mary Portas's programme on national TV was a gift to the town there's no doubt
It was, as she claims, just a catalyst that would bring all of our ideas out.
Mary's been slammed by an MP, who called her "nostalgic and foolish" (how rude!)
but he should come here and find out for himself she's not foolish – it seems she is shrewd.
We live in a country called Daftland
The England we knew is no more
Where sensible people do ludicrous things
Or risk breaking some Daftland law.
In Daftland we've police dogs with muzzles
Less the villain has cause to complain
And to steal from a shop and say 'sorry'
Means you're free with no stain to your name.
You had better leave lights on in buildings
When you lock up and go home at night
'cause the burglars might hurt themselves entering
And there's no way you'll be in the right.
When speaking be wary in Daftland
As some terms that you've used all your life
Now have connotations unintended
And you'll end up in all sorts of strife.
We elect politicians in Daftland
To give us the laws of the land
Yet eight laws in ten now come from abroad
The whole thing has got out of hand.
The borders are open in Daftland
And of migrants there's no keeping track
Just a few of the thousands illegally here
Will ever be caught and sent back.
The exception to this is the hero
Who fought for this land in the war
He's old and he's sick, he might cost us a bit
So he's not welcome here any more.
When the history is written of Daftland
Historians may just recall
That the craziest people in Daftland
Were the public who put up with it all.
Statesman, renowned worldwide
Who shrewdly guided events
Calm in a crisis, quick to replan
Led the Nation and its defence.
Born of a Duke, in a palace,
his mother a beauty and wit
He called her his fairy princess –
American, not a Brit!
He refused point-blank to learn Latin
A rebel at school he became
Reduced to lower form at Harrow
But they knew a brilliant brain.
His red hair led to his nickname
'Carrot top' with blue eyes, stubborn chin
loved English and his form master
So for once worked, settled in!
Discipline, Sandhurst and study
he worked hard at Latin and books
Played polo, wrote journals and swotted,
African correspondent, so travelled.
Captured on train by the Boers, escaped,
Wrote a book chose politicians, became MP
Helped the country in World Wars – two –
Then known as 'Winnie' (not the Pooh').
Dunkirk was a rout and an exit
He rallied some sailors, small ships
Lives were saved in thousands
Men waded ashore and gave slip.
Middle East was a test of endurance
Many men, tanks and guns blown to bits
He then called upon our Monty –
El Alamein's win gave a chance.
Safety at sea
There are chairs scattered
At the bottom of a clear sea
That fell off a cruise ship
That wasn't commanded that
And which in fact turned
Into a terrible tragedy
The caption when "showing off"
Seemingly didn't get it right!
When he took his ship in
Far too close to the harbour
At pretty little Italian Gigolo
One a fine Mediterranean
You see he hit himself a rock
Whilst all the navigation's
Systems would have indicated
That indeed he might
So as the ship was holed
And doomed and would be half
Submerged before first light
After which a lot of people
Died or drowned
And the ship became a total
But not before the captain
Who said "he fell off the ship"
Had to be ordered by the
Italian coastguard back on
To his cruise ship's deck.
The whole undertaking cost
Five hundred million Euros
So as to make in part amends
And needed the best salvage
Engineers in the world to
Come up with a system called
Parbuckelling so as to right
The ship carefully yet slowly
But yet who is it that cannot say,
If they have taken a boat out
To sea and been in some way
Remise or negligent, "thank
The good Lord that it was not me."
Yet if there is a moral to this
Sad story then let the moral be
That you can't fool around
Or act the clown when dealing
With lives or safety out at sea!