Snack!
A clear breach,
Of the trades descriptions act,
When full blown portions,
Are the hallmark,
Of standard fare,
No nonsense,
Quality food,
For the morning after,
The night before.
16 May 2009
Burton Road Chippy
Freshly made batter,
Food for a God,
Deep fried fritters,
Haddock, plaice and cod.
Sausages and scrumps,
Salt and (malt) vinegar,
Pickled eggs and gravy,
Fish cakes are a winner,
Baked beans, scampi,
Ketchup, tartare sauce,
Donner kebab if you like,
And lastly chips of course.
photo by Andy Benn
Sarga
2 4 10
5 till 12
01522
511
777
Call to order,
Pick up or home delivery.
photo by Andy Benn
The Waggon And Horses
The echoes,
Of bygone times
Rattle around inside
The defunct public house,
The last night in quiet contrast,
To the raucous piano bashing
Of its heyday,
Still fresh in my mind,
The stink of cigarette smoke
And beer stained carpet.
Of bygone times
Rattle around inside
The defunct public house,
The last night in quiet contrast,
To the raucous piano bashing
Of its heyday,
Still fresh in my mind,
The stink of cigarette smoke
And beer stained carpet.
photo by Andy Benn
Starbucks Bakery
Bread,
Staff of life,
Crusty white,
Granary, wholemeal,
Sliced or slice it yourself,
Spread thickly with
Creamy English butter,
And jam to taste,
Or liberal helpings
Of smoked salmon,
Ham or cheese with chutney.
You won’t go hungry here.
15 May 2009
Sunflower
A fusion of English
And Oriental cuisine
Blossoms at the Sunflower.
Chose chips or
Chose chicken curry,
Just a few of the delights
Presented on your plate,
For the approval
Of the palate.
And Oriental cuisine
Blossoms at the Sunflower.
Chose chips or
Chose chicken curry,
Just a few of the delights
Presented on your plate,
For the approval
Of the palate.
photo by Andy Benn
14 May 2009
Burton Spice
The food here,
Is hot stuff
If you can take it,
Or simply tasty
If you can’t,
Delivered to your door
If you can’t make it
In person,
Deep karma
In the form of
Chicken korma
Tikkas all
The right boxes.
Is hot stuff
If you can take it,
Or simply tasty
If you can’t,
Delivered to your door
If you can’t make it
In person,
Deep karma
In the form of
Chicken korma
Tikkas all
The right boxes.
photo by Andy Benn
10 May 2009
Sunday morning in spring
It’s one of those idyllic “why would anyone want to be anywhere else” days in May. The back garden is starting to bloom and the sound of birdsong is all around. The lawn has been mown and the hammock is up for the first time this season.
Upstairs the two older offspring are revising for forthcoming examinations, voluntarily and without parental pressure! The other two are in Sunday School with their mother making for a peaceful morning.
Cricket has unfortunately been cancelled as Bracebridge Heath Under 9s have failed to raise a side. It would have been a perfect day for it sat on the boundary sipping a coffee and reading the Sunday papers.
A small plane buzzes across the sky leaving no trail, the sound remaining for a short while after it has disappeared from sight. Leaves flutter in the gentle wind.
The jobs list has been quickly finished and the car retrieved from Burton Road where it was left after a quick post golf drink turned into several. I am now sat in the conservatory with the doors open with a cup of green tea sourced from the shop on Steep Hill. Outside in the garden it is too bright to type. All is well.
30 April 2009
Swine Flu
Swine flu has put me on a high,
Another pandemic in progress,
The end of the world is nigh,
Whilst you can, live life to excess.
One more drink before the end of play,
A calming effect don’t panic,
Oblivion wends its certain way,
Endemic or not, it’s academic.
As we await our final moments,
A time for thought and deep reflection,
A battle fought with inner torments,
If life is cheap, what price infection?
27 April 2009
26 April 2009
On the premature death of a neighbour
He died, young,
Though many have gone before,
The shock remains,
As if for the first time.
The community, silenced,
In unexpected grief,
Left thinking,
Pondering their own mortality.
19 April 2009
11 April 2009
A Loving God
In Italy this week
A loving God
Who is all powerful,
Killed off a couple
Of hundred people
In an earthquake.
They must have been
Evil, presumably?!
The bell tolled,
The faithful went to prayer
And their Leader sent a message
“Assuring us of his spiritual nearness,
Sharing the anguish”.
The bereaved I’m sure,
Would be comforted,
That the souls of the departed
Were fine,
Presuming they were
Good Catholics and
Regularly went
To confession,
The dead that is.
Some mercy was shown –
Survivors were found
Pleased that their names
Were not this time
On the celestial roll call.
The dead, Sofia, Carlo,
Anna, Francesco
Fictitious and fleeting,
Will be remembered for some years
By a plaque, itself destined
For destruction by some future
Wanton act of the same God.
The Orinoco Trail
In the morning the mist rolled down from the peaks
To mingle with the steam rising from the hot springs
That formed the headwaters of the Orinoco river.
The snows were still waiting to melt but we floated around the pools
Enjoying the scenery and the fact that we were warm
In spite of the obvious cool of the mountains.
Exploring the waters we were suddenly caught
In a current that left us powerless to resist;
Swept downwards we struggled to keep our heads
Above the torrent and to avoid the attentions of the rocks
That waited their chance at each bend.
In no time at all, it seemed, we found ourselves
Down the river and out at sea fighting huge waves
That pummeled us as much as had the river earlier in our journey.
The waves eventually grew smaller and we were washed
Onto a gentle sloping beach where we were able to recover.
Around us were exotic plants of all kinds
And above the beach the miracle of a terrace bar,
No illusion this but an invitation to partake.
Dripping back to our towels we picked up some
Valuables to barter for ice creams with the locals.
Wild water rapids we got licked!