The Family Outing

By B.L.Cann.



We went upon an outing, my missus, lad and me, To a village called Dunchurch, and had K.F.C. for tea. It started with a five mile walk to tire the youngster out, But now that it's all over, it's us who're fit for nowt.
The villagers arranged for us to try their table fair, And betting folk could wager upon balloons in the air. A brass band and some dancing girls to make the fellows stare, Complemented a junior choir, and birds of prey in t' air.
Tombolas, raffles, fairground rides and stalls of every kind, And lassies wearing clothing that could make a bloke go blind. But getting there was hell on earth, our youngster nearly cried, As he discovered that today on 'buses we won't ride.



A vow of intent do I make, here in these lines of verse, To send him off to summer camp, or maybe somewhere worse. So we can do our sort of thing, while he get''s on with his, To achieve balanced harmony, 'twixt peaceful life and bliss.
We gave up at the end of day, to making way on foot, Small change was then collected, and to the journey put. Up to the thatched 'bus shelter, we wearily did go, And gave in to modern transport, oh what a heavy blow!