Colomendy

 

Rolling along Welsh roads, so long and bendy

Wouldn’t you know, we’re off to Colemendy!

There’s a hundred of us, an’ the wheels on the bus go round

Across Cheshire and Flint we hustle and bustle and pound

 

“Shurrup at the back!” You can just about hear Pecker Burns

And I’m sure someone’s lit up a fag on the back seat, upstairs

He’s up there like a shot, and I’m sure that he’s not too chuffed

To find out that the culprit’s a lass from his class, Annie  Brough

 

“Boys go to Dorm One: Girls go to Dorm Four”

Dragging our rucsacs and bedding through scuffed doors

 “Sir, I gor’ ’ere first!” “’ard luck!” “Baggsy the top bunk!”

A hundred small niggles wriggle, wiggle, and are sunk

 

Nobody sleeps the first night: that’s a given

With screams and rude songs the calm Welsh night is riven

Poppa Mills’ red face shows he’ll soon be a case for the funny farm van

Someone slip ’im a powder: or persuade ’im ’e’ll ’ave ter relax, man

 

Still, we’re up wi’ the lark the next morning: Welsh Wales, take care!

’Cos the boys from Saint Ossie’s – with  no further warning – will be there

Pecker Burns warned us “If youse want some brekfuss – gerrout o’ bed!”

The he almost got mauled in the rush for the door, as off we sped

 

Did it really rain every day? After so long, it’s hard for me to say

But the outdoor pool was freezing (despite the summer season)

Our days were packed with fieldwork trips (frozen feet, sore chapped lips)

Our evenings writing notes, drying coats, jeans, socks, gloves, shoes, hats …..

 

Yozzer farted during Grace one day (an’ he could really drop a pup!)

“Stand up Hughes!” screams Pecker Burns – so o’course, we all stands up

He couldn’t really flog us all: and ’cos the stench was evil

He had to let us go outside, till it passed, and we could ‘breeve’

 

Every evening, Pecker Burns told us one of his famous stories

Shaggy dog tales full of horrible puns, worse jokes and most unlikely glories

Most of us had heard them before, but it didn’t hurt to hear them one time more

I’m sure that he thought that he’d use them to bore us to sleep

 

The hills are alive with the sound ………. of the sheep stampeding

As us city kids charge up and scatter them far and wide

In my mind I can hear that old ram’s fear as he legs it

“Sod off, yer Scahse git – I was ’aving’ a [snack], now you’ve spoilt it!”

 

All too soon the week ends, and me and my friends

Are back on the bus and must leave Colomend[y]

And the things that we’ve packed in one short week of action and fun

Will mellow to memories of friendship, adventure, freedom and sun