So, I’m on one of several trains that make up the ridiculously convoluted journey from North Devon to my dad’s home town in South Wales, and I find myself channelling Pam Ayres. I get taken like this from time to time and I know it’s not a good thing. But still, it’s writing, right?
I fish out the bit of paper on which I’ve scrawled the times for the four (count ’em) different trains I need to catch for my four (count ’em) hour journey, and I start to scribble. The result was posted in a series of tweets – but it appears that Twitter disapproved, possibly on grounds of taste or decency. The first time around, two of my lines disappeared into the ether; the second time – the new, improved and expanded version – a different couplet was lost.
I refuse to bow to such censorship! So here it is, the full uncut version of Ode to a Pumpkin. You’ve been warned Twitter – I will not be silenced…
Ode to a Pumpkin* (or Too Much Time on My Hands on the Train to Wales)
O Pumpkin Café, tell me why
Whenever I your hot drinks buy
And take the plastic lids off so
That I can drink more in one go
The lid transforms immediately:
Can’t force it back upon my tea!
And as upon the train I ride
Hot liquid splashes side to side,
Risking burns with every sip –
The health and safety guys would flip.
Please sort it so I once again
Can drink my cuppa on the train.
I thank you.
*For readers outside the UK, Pumpkin are a chain of cafés found exclusively – at least as far as I know – on the platforms of train stations up and down the country. Sampling their food and drink “offer” inspired the muse – and I’m fairly confident I’ll be the only person ever to have said that.