The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: the line up. Or the 'queue', should you insist on being all British-y.
Well, people certainly wanted their apples today. We arrived with 30 crates (approximately 600 pounds) and only returned with 6. It's a shame about the frost, because we would have done even better with a selection of cherry tomatoes and berries to go with them.
But honestly, there's not much room to complain after a day like that.
Kat's aunt and uncle from Calgary are visiting with her parents this weekend and we went up for dinner this evening (always appreciated on market days). We get to return for turkey dinner tomorrow night, and I am particularly looking forward to the pumpkin pie.
Mine:
He stood in the line for days,
A stationary snake
Wedged into a roped off maze,
With no hope of escape.
2 comments:
So... did you come back with 6 apples, or six crates of apples? Either way it sounds like you sold an impressive amount! Congratulations :)
Dinner on market day and the day after? Sounds luxurious for sure ;-) That said, having just spent a week eating restaurant food I'm quite happy to be able to cook a chorizo-and-pepper sandwich for myself without having the fuss of turning up, being seated, choosing it, waiting for it... etc.
Cute little poem, it definitely made me smile today! I'm guessing he was at Disney world?
The queue
The queue has rules,
And all the queuers know them,
No pushing in, no transgressions,
In fact, you're plain unwelcome.
[A note on that Britishism: a "line up" to us is something that's organised for a purpose, such a line up of suspects for an identity parade, while a queue is self-forming and self-governing, and woe-betide the innocent who breaks the unwritten rules of the queue!]
Greg - six crates :P
I do believe your poem perfectly sums up the British queue :D
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