The Holiday

The latest poem by Teresa Harrison-Best is about a couple going on holiday (or not).  She is always fascinated by what some women take on holiday with them, astonishing to say the least.

The Holiday

It’s time for their vacation,
no work for two whole weeks.
The 6.01 to London Bridge
Is swopped for Pennine peaks.

He packs his clothes as quick as that,
trousers, shorts and t’s.
A few fresh pants and odds and sods,
the whole thing’s just a breeze.

Now, she, of course, is different,
as packing is an art.
Several piles to cram inside
before they can depart.

She calls to him for sheer brute strength,
as the case just will not shut.
He takes one look and sucks his teeth
before that tell-tale tut.

Why do you need eight pairs of shoes
when you only have two feet?
She looks at him in pure disgust
and answers short and sweet.

“If I wear blue,I need this pair
and the same if I wear red.
White and black are staples, dear”
Is what she duly said.

OH!….

Well, he wrestled for long, long time
until the case was closed.
He grimaced as he smiled at her,
his feeling undisclosed!

The car was packed and off they went
every inch was stuffed.
They spluttered out the drive and drove,
their car was sounding rough!

Then….

On the motorway heading up
the car came to a halt.
All signs of life were clearly gone,
a ‘gonna’ by default!

The AA man just sucked his teeth,
‘this car has had it day’.
The big tow truck from cars ‘r ‘us,
towed them all the way.

So now they’re going out for days,
the cases are unpacked.
Touring now by bus and rail
they’re going more compact!

Phew!