The market.

There’s a Farmers’ Market this weekend. Oh please yes, do let ‘s go

I love the stripy awnings and the knick knacks there on show.

We can park up near the Co-Op. I know of just the place

With our blue badge on the dashboard – there’s a special reserved space

Oh look, I see the Shawl man has commandeered the favourite spot.

And the Candle maker’s frowning Hoping it won’t get too hot.

The mustards and the pickles tempt us with their golden hue.

But I really can’t afford them at £6.92!

The pork chops are expensive.  But the best you’ll ever see!

Crunchy crackling, succulent portions. Enough for you and me!

But now we need some veg to go with onions from the garden.

Some beans and green, and then some fruit, so our arteries won’t harden

With the cobbles and the steep incline I feel a palpitation

A cup of tea would go down well. But the cafe’s at the station!

It’s far too far, and there’s a queue, with lots of people waiting

Ah, it’s for creamy hand-made fudge. Get thee behind me Satan!

It’s time to go. I’ve bought enough! A candle, bread, a bun!

You seem to have your arms full too!

There’s no more room … No none. 

Next month we’ll come again I’m sure.

Though for today I’m done.

Yes. We’ll save and come again.

It really was such fun!

Jenny Hanley