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Light Reflections

Viewed  Blackpool illuminations
courtesy of a rusting festooned  bus,
which once had the hue of cold coloured cream
but turned crusty yellow,
it was the charabanc of my dreams.
I watched awe struck as Golden Miles slipped by.
The tattoo’d steady handed driver
changed shades under gaudy lights of Disney displays
and coarse caricatures of Marilyn and Jane.
How easily he swung the bus,
nonchalant and smooth down the route,
past lines of trams,
whose reflection stood in the inky swell
of a deep dark ocean beyond the sand
which sent light straight back
to “Kiss ‘n’ Tell” land
I was tired when we returned,
playing in the kitchen, kicking heels,
my plastic coated steering wheel burning rubber,
suckered onto the vinyl papered wall.
I drove straight through and down the hall,
careered along the promenade,
steaming out to greet the tide,
roared along each sand strewn pier.
Nerveless, I swerved between plastic castles,
while caressing Snow White’s crystal tears
blew dew drop breath through Dopey’s passing ear.
Back in the front parlor they spoke
of house moves, insurances, savings books
and plans, as if they didn’t understand.

7 Dec 12

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Naturally you are the best, and Lancashire's golden smile is a winner too
 — rumpty