Monday, 9 November 2015

Exactly what it sounds like.

Mrs Mattapier stirred the porridge in the pot
And glanced at her wrist where her wristwatch tick-tocked
She called up the stairs to her daughter above
"You're going to be late, get a bustle on, love"

Her daughter came dashing her way down the stairs
And sat at the table on one of the chairs
"Careful", said mother as she placed down a bowl
Of sizzling porridge to fill her daughter's cake-hole

splash of cold milk so her mouth she'd not scold
And a dollop of honey the colour of gold
Her rumbly tummy now filled with hot oats
She went and collected her bag and her coat

She pulled on her hat and her scarf and her gloves
Then tickled her dog who replied with a "woof"
She stepped out the door and into the street
The dry, autumn leaves crunching under her feet

"Good morning, Russell", she beamed at her friend
Who'd waited, as ever, down the road on the bend
Unusually, though, he was on hands and knees
Staring at a pile of crisp, golden leaves

"What on earth are you doing?" she asked as she knelt
"And what the heck is that disgusting smell?"
"Shhh", hissed her friend from his spot on the ground
She did as he bid with a bewildered frown

"If you listen hard and tilt your head right
You can hear those two ants, there, having a fight"
She held her breath and listened intently
But all she could hear was the breeze blowing gently

Then, far away, a new noise, a grumble 
Growing until that deep, distant rumble
Grew louder and louder and was joined by a roar
Then a hiss and a clunk and a whole heap of sounds more

clatter and crunch and a grumbly groan
squeak and a squeal, a mechanical moan
hiss and a pish and a blast of cold air
And the bus sailed past, leaving both children there

Down on their knees with their ears to the ground
Watching two ants fighting atop a mound
Of leaves that exploded and fluttered and flew
Revealing a dried up piece of dog poo

The girl and the boy stood and chorused "Oh, great"
Left behind at the stop, now they'd surely be late
"Now we're in trouble", said Russell as they
Rose to their feet and set off on their way

"We're not going to make it now we're on foot"
"Don't worry," said she, "For I know a short cut"
She ducked and disappeared through a gap in a bush
And called back to Russell, "Come on, Russell, rush"

Dashing hand in hand through the fields and trees
Laughing and grinning and buzzing like bees
They leapt 'cross the stream that babbled gently
Downhill to the river then far out to sea

They passed by the ducks that waddled and quacked
And the derelict farm house with windows all cracked
They asked a lone horse if they were going the right way
And laughed at the nag when he answered them, "neigh"

A large, woolly sheep tried to baa the kids path
And a flatulent goat had made the friends laugh
They splashed through the puddles and squelched through the mud
Heading for lessons as fast as they could

They ran by some chickens who "bock, bock, bock bocked"
And climbed an old gate an old farmer had locked
Then laughed as they carried on up the small hill
Watched by a crow with an oily, black bill

The crow caw-caw-cawed out his early warning
Of danger approaching on that autumn morning
A swallow gulped and a robin did, too
Then they took to the air joined by a cuckoo

Swooping through the sky, larking around
Whooshing and swooshing far from the ground
Watching the children who dashed far below
Under the beady, black eye of the crow

They crashed through the trees standing proud on the brow
Then sped through the field, past a miserable cow
Who tutted and mumbled as green grass she chewed
No smile on her face, she was in a bad mooed

Fields and streams crossed and one final fence climbed
They zipped down the street at a minute past nine
Heads down they whizzed in through the school gates
Puffing and panting and red in the face

Late they had been, though late only just
And, surprisingly, they'd beaten the bus
It had broken down a mile from the school
And the unfortunate driver carried no tools

Russell pulled out his best friend's chair
As she pulled a twig from her best friend's hair
They sat side by side, both wearing wide grins
And awaited the rest of their class to get in

Mud on their shoes and leaves in their hoods
Collected on their journey to school through the woods
And fields and fun places between here and there
The smiley kids looked a right scruffy pair

But what a tale young Honor had
To entertain her mum and her dad
When, home once more and safe and sound
Their tea-time chatter came around

The noises they'd heard and the smells they had smelt
The things they had seen and the feelings they'd felt
The squeaks and the squawks, the clucks and the clatters
The end's just the end, it's the journey that matters


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