Bus.jpgThe “Early Twirly” Days

I'm one of the “Early Twirly Girls”,*

I'm sure you've heard of us;

I clamber carefully up the steps

And get inside the 'bus.

“Is it too early, Driver?”

I ask him, pass in hand;

“No it isn't, now move along

Or else you'll have to stand.”

I slowly haul my ‘pusher' up

And thank him with a smile,

“Don't put that there, it's in the way,

You're blocking up the aisle!”

“Oh, sorry, sir! Was that your foot?

- If I could just get by,

There's not much room,

                can I squeeze through?

Anyway, I'll try …

Is that your bag? So sorry, dear,

Do hope there were no eggs

- I really couldn't help it,

I'm unsteady on me legs!”

“If you could move that toddler

And put him on your lap

I'd have more chance of getting by

- Now, there's no need to snap!

Oh, thank you, miss,

                that's very kind;

That's if you're really sure

- But now I think I'm at my stop

And must get to the door …

Driver, stop, I'm getting off,

Don't shut the doors too fast,

They're helping get my “pusher” out

… Thank you both. At last!”

I'm really quite exhausted,

But at least the shopping's done

- I'll have a rest tomorrow

And doze off in the sun.

Then on the morning after

I'll be ready for the fray,

And set off with my pusher

On an “early twirly” day.


* NB: No, this is not autobiographical!!

(I never was an Early Twirly Girl).