A Day Out in France

A poem by - Baz Cann

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One day I took up a weird notion, to take a trip to Northern France,
All due to a good friend's suggestion, "Let's see what's to do there, by chance!"
So tickets were purchased,and ready we made, and departure day, it came around,
We boarded the coach, and set off for the south, for to set our feet on French ground.


The coach ride were dead long, and I composed a song, as we rolled down t'motorway.
It was raining like heck and dead miserable, just the right way to start off the day.
Now, I've never been one, coach trips to rely upon; put up with it reluctantly,
But the silence were deadly from all those old folk, as we headed down to the sea.

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Then we boarded the ferry, and things brightened up, folk in high spirits were there,
And the spirits got higher, as we set sail, with Vodka and Gin everywhere!
Then all too soon, we arrived at port, then back onto a coach, to take us to a shopping mall,
A day of excitement, and laughter to boot- I really do not think so pal!

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But inside the mall, my very good pal, saw several lassies ahead,
And accounted exactly what he'd like to do, as the idea took form in his head!
With thoughts such as those, most would keep rather quiet, but evidently not so he,
"Safe as houses" he mused, "They don't understand!" and that comment was directed at me.

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"I would not be so sure" was my cautious reply, "We aren't t'only English in here,
I'll admit that yon lass, posseses what's called class", wishing I could just get out of there!
The cat-calling continued, and as we got near, her agitation I could tell,
Then she just spun around and uttered a curse, and in Northern English as well!


Well, I laughed till I cried, I near split a side, "I had warned you now, didn't I",
He was red-faced and sombre for quite a long while, as I wiped the tears from my eye.
When we left the mall we went6 down to the town, as French as a french town could be,
Clutching at a phrase book we first had a look, then we noticed a Patisserie.


"I right bloody starving" stated my pal; I thought "This'll be good for a crack",
So through the French Phrase Book he thumbed, till he found the said phrase at the back,
I thought that my French vocabulary wasn't much, until with the language, he spoke,
The lady in the store did something I adored, and in Manchunian said to t'bloke,

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"Excuse me for t'laughter, now what are you after?, our filled croissants are very good,
But get rid of your phrase book, it's telling you wrong, you'll never be well understood",
At this he was flummoxed, and set all to odds, and I explained carefully to him,
"English here's taught at school, and that is the rule, for a profit from the English to make!"

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