A taxi-cab in Melbourne; nothing to goggle at.
A pleasant banana-yellow, nothing more.
Along with plenty of others, cruising the city streets;
All of them just the same, you may be sure.
But look at the name in white, up there on the taxi roof!
It doesn't make much sense, you must agree.
A 'silver top'? I don't see one! They were all of them the same!
Not one little gleam of silver could I see!
Why not a name that suited? Maybe 'Daffodil Brigade',
Or 'Sunshine Cruisers', that would sound quite mellow.
Even 'Banana Boys' would be a catchy little name;
Anything that reminded us of yellow.
Imagine being a stranger looking out to catch a cab
And you've been told to look for 'Silver Tops',
You've been standing waiting for hours and hours and hours!
And not one silver cab arrives and stops!
Did they run out of silver paint? Is that the explanation?
Or was it a little joke that we could share?
Or was it clever adverstising; a way to stay in our minds?
I only know it made this tourist stare.
*
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WINTER SEA
Now has the sea no ending;
It was light and it now is dark.
And the sea with the sky is blending
With a smooth and seamless mark.
And a bird is into the darkness tossed.
The mist comes down and the bird is lost.
Smooth are the lamp's reflections
From the street lights far below.
They are whirligig-bound confections
In a misty cellophane glow.
But their lights reflect on the turning sea,
Like barmaids lost in a reverie.
Now is the night air folding
It's chill wings round the world.
And the sea is gently scolding
As the waves are backward furled.
Like moths that glide under darkened trees
Are the tufted waves on the coal-black seas.
Are the tufted waves on the coal-black seas.
*
Written sixty years ago when I was at college on the sea-front at Brighton, in Sussex.
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PS
PS
We had our Street Party yesterday evening. It's the one and only time we all meet, and the event is always pleasant. New arrivals (some from South Africa this time) are always made very welcome. Group shots of events like this are always tricky as they end up looking so untidy, so I just shot the menfolk enjoying their game of cricket as the sun went down.
*
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Extra P.S.
Harry, my gorgeous six year old grandson, came for a story-writing session yesterday. 'Grandma' he said 'Will you still teach me when I'm twenty?' When I told him that I doubted it, as I'll be 94 he looked a little nonplussed!
2 comments:
Your grandson is just grandma to be with him heheh cute. Happy MYM!
My husband flew to Melbourne yesterday. he rang for a GREEN taxi as he normally does because his company believes in the environment.
Along came a normal taxi, the driver said, sometimes when the Green taxi is busy, they pass it on to others.
I blame my husband for not calling early.
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