March 1996 - Bude

Just a very rough draft of a little Limerick type poem I wrote today. I’ve tried to convert it into a score for a performer. Before each verse the bracketed italics give the performer a queue which they must then improvise around when performing that verse. I am not at all happy with it yet, but I spent a good few hours on it, so thought you might like to see. 

(A man soaked from rain turns to another)
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me, 
Is that feeling you get, 
When your hair is all wet, 
And you bite into a good bit of Brie. 

(The other slightly larger man laughs slightly and replies)
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me, 
Is a good Sunday Roast, 
In a pub on the Coast, 
With my Yorkshires swimming in gravy.

(A burly lady with a young son approaches and interjects)
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me,
Is Ice-cream in the sun, 
Or a pink iced bun, 
As you sit and watch the sea.

(The boy shakes his head and says proudly)
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me, 
Is riding your bike, 
As fast as you like, 
Down the road when your mam can’t see.

(A middle aged couple in walking clothes in turn join the conversation)
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me, 
Is a walk in a valley, 
With not much to carry, 
But a picnic box and a warm flask of tea.      

You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me, 
Is a strong winter breeze, 
That makes your hands start to freeze, 
As you sit on a fisherman’s quay. 

(A holiday maker with a London accent and excited dog on lead)
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me, 
Is walking your dog, 
In a thick city smog, 
When the glow of the town’s all you see.

(The cheerful barmaid butts in)
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me, 
Is the colour of your arse, 
As you slide down the grass, 
If you fall when climbing a tree.

(A proper fellow with his nose in a book politely expresses his view)
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me, 
Is trips to Museums, 
Or concert lyceums,
to sample the islands History.

(A bloke laughing at his own jokes)
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Or at least the best part for me, 
Is a trip to the bookie’s, 
Before the Saturday Footie, 
With my feet up in front the TV.

(A non-descript person enters)
No, No, No. 
The best bit about living in England, 
I don’t understand why none of you see, 
It’s not grass, museums or valleys, 
It’s not a roast, your bike, or the breeze, 
It’s not smog, Football or Ice-Cream, 
And it certainly isn't soft cheese, 
You see the best bit about living in England, 
Is that nobody ever agrees!

(Direct Address) 
So if you find yourself living in England, 
Try to talk to whoever you see, 
Because they probably love this country, 
And maybe on that you’ll agree.