BBWB 4: A Fresh Start

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A Fresh Start

George Goldthorpe stroll’d about Carlisle
Last realm of Rome & London
Like Arno, Ganga & the Nile
Glitters the River Eden

By Solway Firth the border cross’d
Thro Gretna Green & Annan
The railcar ran, the day emboss’d
By Destination Arran

Kirkconnel, Sanquhar, Kilmarnock
He took the rest on foot
What salve, what trophy & what shock!
When savage Goat Fell cut

A loveshape in his psychic sail
When dreams them night-time drifting
To Arran’s massive massif graal
Outstandingly uplifting

He bought ice-cream, Ardrossan beach
Was ripe with Weegies pink’ning
A new life chapter nigh in reach
A boxer by the ring

The jetty left, a flood of waves,
An island life grows near
Within an hour the gangway paves
A pathway to the pier

This is an ornate stomping ground
For George ‘fresh-starting’ Goldthorpe
Of stunning scenes whose folk redound
Thro’ quaintly queer timewarp

He found a room for seven bob
& settl’d in quite quickly
Then set off searching for a job
With brylcream smoothback slickly

Trekking one day Cnocan Gorge
He met a local cutie,
“Hello there lass, my name is George
& yours, I’ll guess, is Beauty?”

“My name is Sarah, how dya do
& where’s it fae, yer accent?”
“I’m Yorkshire born,” “English?” “That too,
Whose been to Scotland sent

By Destiny, Fate, what you will,
I’ve made it after all,
Now where dwa find the frothing thrill
Of yonder waterfall?”

“Why sir, I’m going there myself!”
So off they went together,
Sat side-by-side on rocky shelf
By cushion moss & heather

Watching whitewaters leap & dash
Like bouncing boiling kettles,
A pool of crystal steals the splash
That in a second settles

Lit by a sunbeam thro the trees
Two sets of eyes meet dreaming
Upon the outside faces freeze
But inside souls were screaming

‘Kiss me!’ ‘Please Kiss me! Kiss my lips’
Each heartbeat brought them closer
He held her gently by the hips
“Come, girl, come stroll Glen Rosa.”

She bounden back, a broken trance,
‘Some other day I might,’
Her head entipsy with romance
She thought of George all night

& so did he, he thought of her
That lovely lass call’d Sarah
With aura soft & floral burr
& auroral eyes none fairer

Dawn broke & George again went out
He’d never been a shirker
Amang all crews & gangs no doubt
He was the hardest worker

The Marchioness of Graham sens’d
The same, thought George first rate,
& so his services dispens’d
All over her estate

Who swept a whistle round the grounds
& up & down the castle
The porter & the postal rounds
& none of it much hassle

With time enough unoccupied
So book’d the village hall
To form a game & vibrant side
To battle at football

As word whirls round the whole estate
‘He’s keen is English George,’
‘Ah ken the lad,’ ‘Aye, he’s mah mate,’
‘Lets help the lad to forge

A decent village football team
To claim the island cup,”
So out came all the local cream,
Old pros to schoolboy pup

William Taylor McIntyre
& John McAllister
Both show’d fine skillsets & desire
Each midfield terrier

Malcolm McArthur chosen too
Of Merkland, & all three
Contracted to the Castle Crew
Less workforce more family

They took the trophy from Pirnmill
A year to rile & rankle
Despite MacArthur – trip & spill –
S’gone over on his ankle

They held the trophy one more year
The next, tho, things were different
As an insidious atmosphere
Crept oer the continent

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