Number 130. Land's End to John O'Groats

Land’s End to John O’Groats.

I have only once been seen,

In all my life in Aberdeen.

Glasgow I have been to twice,

And found it surprisingly nice!

I’ve only rarely ventured forth,

And gone a little further north,

But one day I would like to go,

From John O’Groats to Plymouth Hoe.

I know Land’s End is where it should,

Really finish, but I would

Prefer to catch the train from there,

And get myself back up to Ayr.

From there I could see Inverness,

But now I think so less and less;

As what perhaps might be the best,

Is concentrate on going west.

I heard a story once in which,

A chap got married in Norwich.

People there did not know why,

The pair moved off to Hay on Wye.

My dad got into quite a mess,

In quicksand once when in Skegness,

And I’d not give a bag of beans,

To go again to Milton Keynes.

Despite the fame of Manchester,

The place I really can’t remember,

And though it makes me feel a fool;

Neither can I Liverpool!

Edinburgh is somewhere that,

Once or twice I’ve hung my hat,

But when all is said and done,

I’m safer staying near London.

And though it could supply my needs,

It’s much too far to go to Leeds,

London actually is nearer,

But in most respects much dearer.

Would I be maligning Hull,

If I said that it was dull?

Sheffield, Bradford, Pontefract;

I’ve avoided, that’s a fact!

But I really love the Dales,

Even more than I love Wales,

And Whitby, Scarborough on the coast,

Have beaches I like more than most!

Someone once tried to enlighten,

Me by raving about Brighton,

While someone else told me I ought,

To go and see about Bridport.

Once when Bristol was my heading,

Mistakenly I stopped in Reading.

At first I thought that it was Slough,

My Sat-Nav got confused somehow.

To be fair I was unsure,

If it was even the M4;

Motorways all look the same,

Especially in the wilds near Thame.

Imagine how I felt in Ware;

I’d no idea and couldn’t care,

All I knew was I was lost,

And all night long in bed I tossed!

I jumped out early from my bed,

And made my way to Maidenhead,

But lunchtime, by the time I’d eaten,

I was on my way to Eton.

But all the time I really knew,

That only one small town would do;

I knew that nothing much could match it,

And so I settled down in Datchett!

© Stephen Saunders