Telephone Scamming Scum!

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old foneAn elderly man I know well had a call from a ‘nice man at the bank’. The Octogenarian followed all the instructions he was given and posted off his debit card. He had been scammed by scum. It’s time our lawmakers and society in general stopped being so soft on such hate crime. We do not tolerate child abuse, ethnic abuse or abuse against GLBT in this country but seem to turn our backs on crime against the elderly…

A ‘nice man from the bank’,
Rang with some news,
My debit card needed changing,
Was worn out with being used!
If he sent an envelope,
Could I please send it back,
Then he’d send me a new one,
And that would be just that!
I did what he told me to,
Then alarm bells started to ring,
But the ‘nice man from the bank’,
Would take care of everything!
The following week I was card-less,
The ‘nice man from the bank’ was gone,
They drained my account most efficiently,
And now I feel so wrong.
How could I have been so stupid,
Am I losing it at eighty-five?
The nice man from the bank was so plausible,
I feel stupid, myself I deride.
I have now lost my confidence,
I don’t know who to trust,
The lawmakers have forgotten me,
I’m elderly and my account is bust.

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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The Absence of Supermarket Bears!

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Chapman's SalmonMany years ago there was a small girl who was frightened by a bear in the cartoon film ‘Ice Age’. In an attempt to pacify her, I told her and her sister that there were no bears in local supermarkets. The reason being that supermarket fish was not fresh enough and as we all know, bears only like fresh fish!
Last Friday, Mrs Bard caught three fresh salmon at our local butcher (Chapman & Sons, Baldock). They had journeyed down from Scotland overnight and were almost as fresh as if they had been caught in a local river. Their freshness reminded me of the post-script to the story (I’m sure I spied a bear in Chapman’s)

Hannah and sister Sarah,
At a supermarket in the town,
Strode up to the fish counter,
And looked it up and down!

“Please mister tell us,
Have you have seen a bear,
Wandering round the store,
About this big with lots of hair?”

The man behind the counter,
Was somewhat taken aback:
“Of course we have no bears,
Or I would face the sack!”

“That’s a disappointment!
Borne out in the flesh,
Because it suggests to us,
That your fish is just not fresh!”

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

Wester Ross Salmon is available from Chapman’s the Butcher’s, High Street, Baldock. www.chapmansbutchers.com (01462 892359) along with other fine meats, fish, South African delicacies and groceries

The Baldock Boot Sale is open every Saturday at 7am
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The Litter Picker!

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The Litter PickerSome have voiced surprise when they see me wearing my ‘Jack of All Trades’ hat at the car boot sales. Some have even said: “Aren’t you the one who showed me where to park, took my money and serviced the loos?” I have been known in the past to suggest that my evil twin collected the money! By the time I pick up the litter, everyone has gone. It’s like having a party: Everyone is keen beforehand and too many cooks are busy spoiling the broth. Come tidying up time they seem to have done a Houdini and you’re on your own. It is the time of day when energy is truly sapped and batteries need recharging…

I’m not a litter picker,
I’m a litter picker’s mate.
I’m always picking litter,
Even when the Bootsale’s late!
So if you see me picking,
And you feel you can’t relate,
Just shout, “Hello Litter Picker!”
And head off for the gate!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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They All Went into Town Riding Goats!

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Three Men Riding GoatsThe other evening Mrs Bard and I went out to a party. It was one of those occasions where the mix of people was so eclectic that the ‘they-said-what? I-don’t-believe-it’ content of conversation varied from the sublime to the extreme. It was one of those wonderful opportunities to harvest small amounts of out-of-context conversation that make for such misunderstandings in our daily lives…

A woman sat talking at a party,
In a voice that created no tingles!
“We went to Spain, won’t go there again,
My husband survived on Pringles!

A girl, I suppose in her twenties,
was confiding one with another,
“I really can’t see why he didn’t agree,
When she found he’d slept with her brother!”

A big old man in the corner,
His dustbin collection had a glitch,
“They’ve changed the size and what goes inside,
I no longer know what goes with which!”

In the kitchen while preparing a salad,
A lady was holding forth on her child,
“His teacher remarked that when both of them sparked,
The whole of the class just ran wild!”

Two men clutching beer in conversation,
Both had long disposed of their coats,
“My old father says, he once wore a fez,
while they all went to town riding goats!”

On the way back from the party,
I turned to my dearest and said,
“I had a great time, I must write a rhyme,
And let all of these words from my head!”

*photograph copyright holder unknown, found in the public domain.

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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What Would the Neighbours say…?

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Car WashIt is strange that in a time of apparent frugality, hand car washes seem to be thriving all over the country. What has happened to us, have we become so lazy that we can no longer spend half an hour with a hose on the driveway come Sunday morning? Or is it something much deeper, a need to impress the neighbours? “Bye darling!” shouts the husband from the front door, “I’m off to get the car washed at the hand-car-wash.” “Alright, Love!” shouts his wife from upstairs where she is busy ironing to supplement their income, “don’t forget to make sure the neighbours know where you’re going!” I know this may seem extreme but unfortunately I suspect it’s not far from the truth for some…

Kevin’s car shines at the car wash,
Must keep it clean,
Must keep it posh!
His important job is enjoyed,
In reality,
Unemployed.

Told neighbours: ‘holiday last week’,
Mother in Hastings,
Not Martinique!
Showed Internet photos from the Carribean,
Along with instant tan,
Believed what they’re seeing!

The neighbours admire their house downstair,
All the bedrooms,
Are empty and bare.
His drinks cupboard has no more space
But the refrigerator
Is an empty place.

To a boot sale he drives miles,
To avoid his neighbours,
Patronising smiles.
Shops at a discount store with his wife,
Uses Waitrose,
Bags for life!

Amongst these tales not one gem,
Worried what others,
Think of them!
Out of his mouth spouts so much tosh,
All conceived,
At the hand car wash!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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The Setting Sun!

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Sky at NightYesterday Mrs Bard and I went to the funeral of a local farmer. Last night there was a wonderful sunset complete with ‘Mares Tail’ clouds. I’d like to think that the two were linked in some way and that Mother Nature had put on a special light show as a fitting ‘fond adieu’, but modern knowledge can easily spoil the wish. As agricultural practices become more scientific we seem to become more remote from the very land that we work, however we’re never far from the soil…

There goes the farmer driving by,
One eye on his crops,
The other to the sky.

Will it rain or will it be fine?
Would like some rain,
But need sunshine!

But come the time we’re not around,
Eyes are firmly,
On the ground.

Dedicated to David (Divid) Hodge, a Scotsman, friend and farmer who brought light when he entered a room.

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above


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Grandparents and Grandchildren (made for each other!)

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Last October I became Grandfather Bard. This week the Prince of Wales became one too. There are many different types of grandparent. These days some are more hands-on than at any time in history. The role of child-minder is possibly not one that Prince Charles will fulfill, but I sincerely hope he finds time to spend with his new grandchild. Speaking from experience, it is most rewarding.
Some weeks ago I took a photo of two generations walking together in a park. On a morning where many millions of words are available on the birth of a grandchild, I can find no words that convey the respect or love between two generations as much as this photograph…
Generations© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Powerless!

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plugAt last we’ve had a much-needed shower of rain. Unfortunately it brought the unwanted guests – thunder, lightening and a power cut, to the party as well. Meanwhile in London the eyes of the world’s media are focused on a hospital door where a young couple with a baby may appear later…

Early this morning just as it was light,
Our two dogs had a terrible fright,
The burglar alarm was a-squealin’ and a-screechin’,
“Help! There is trouble” it was beseeching!
I realised at once that the power was cut,
Thunder and lightening – curtain, window, shut!
Then from the heavens came the pouring rain,
And the burglar alarm started howling once again!
It was as if the heavens had seen quite enough,
And decided to fight back with mega-weather rough!
This morning all the crops are going “Aaaaah!”
They’ve at last had some water before it went too far.
But the side effects of no juice through the wires,
No internet or mobile phone, a silence that inspires!
And on the TV news they are interviewing a lady,
Who’s camped out on the pavement to see a royal baby!
So whether it’s George, Arthur or even Alistair,
Let’s bury all bad news today as if it wasn’t there!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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The Great Quiche Thief!

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Quiche 2Yesterday Mrs Bard made one of her famous quiches. Not long after it came out of the oven, we tasted a finger each (one of life’s great joys, tasting before serving!) It was a masterpiece, the consistency was perfect, the lardons adding a slightly smoky flavour, the pastry cooked to perfection and the tomatoes on top just sunken in enough to add the finishing touch. We could hardly wait for supper to dig into it again…

Our dog Mali is in disgrace,
I’m surprised that she dare show her face,
She may angelic seem to be,
But the devil can lie therein you see!
It would seem that she has discovered her niche,
By becoming an accomplished stealer of quiche!
She had been fed her usual meal,
But obviously a tad hungry still did feel,
And so while we had attention diverted,
She attacked the quiche quiet and furtive!
She left me feeling quite bereft,
Hardly a morsell had she left.
Mali conkedThere she lay, a sorry sight,
Her quiche-filled stomach large and white.
The result of a dog eating like a horse…
We now wait for nature to take its course!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above


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The Summer Robin!

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summer robinThe other day I saw a robin. I know I’ve seen them about before, but it seemed unseasonal. I began to wonder if there was an old country saying like: “A robin seen in July will make them hoggetts fly!” or similar. And then it struck me that I was just thinking nonsense again…

Where do young robins go in summer?
Do they go abroad?
Or do they just hang around the streets,
Doing nuffink and looking bored?

Do their mothers just despair,
About their friends and berate,
Their husbands when they come back from work,
“He’s out again ‘till late!”

Do they suddenly become responsible?
With a nest of their very own,
And Grandma Robin knits red breasts,
For grandchildren at home!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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