So, lost in the wilderness as I was, I have been plodding on foot for a while now and not stopping at the Poetry Bus stop.
But, in the spirit of quantity over quality that I have now embraced, I am striding purposefully to the side of the road, I am thrusting my hand out and demanding the bus screech to a halt and let me climb aboard.
I can't claim it's any good, but hey, at least I'm trying :)
This weeks task - set by Don't Feed the Pixies :
"As you may remember I set you all the task of rehabilitating road (or any other) signs that were just lounging about doing nothing. You could either:
1) Follow the sign and write something you saw at the other end
2) Merely imagine what might be at the other end and write about that
3) Find a new use for the word on the sign to explain something that currently has no word"
I decided to run with option one - except for the fact that the sign I had in mind is too far away for me to go and follow just now. We see it every time we head west to the in-laws - it's an ambition of mine to actually visit this town...
I give you...
Oh, tittering townland of Bumlin!
Co. Roscommon's hidden gem.
We snicker like naughty schoolboys
at the Wildean wit of it all.
A moniker of the posterior
(How dull our little lives are)
One day I hope to stop, pay a visit
instead of passing, laughing, in the car.