Omnibus

PD3

“Anybody seen in a bus over the age of thirty has been a failure in life”
Loelia, Duchess of Winchester 1902-1993

When my brother was released from gaol
The very first thing that I heard he did
Was find a scrapyard in Northamptonshire
In which lay dormant an old Leyland bus
A double-decker Leyland PD3.
He, my cousin Ian, and David Jones, my dad,
They dragged it back from whence it came,
A half-cab bus from Rossendale, and set to work.
They took the seats out, fitted a big slide
A ball pond, tables, fun packed stuff for kids.

On the back seat Ian found his name
A scrawled reminder of his vanished youth
Scribbled on some long forgotten teenage kick
In marker pen across the rear seat.

If you want an image, picture this:
Struggling with the wheel nuts in the bitter cold
Of January, and the bastards will not move.
They got the bugger going though, in months
And drove its lumbering frame
Towards the blesing of an MOT.

It passed, despite its lack of seats,
The half-cab window leaking, awkward clutch
Electric switches like in your 60s house
When you were young...

Ian’s a plumber now, and my brother’s rage
[Writing angry letters to the press, and
All England’s MPs, to ask them this:
“Do you think it’s OK for police
To lie? “ Tick just one box] is in the past,
And after three long years he’s turned a page.

The bus remains though, wrongly coloured blue,
The seats in storage and the destination blind
Proclaiming “Ellie’s birthday: Three” -
She’s six.
It doesn’t please the purists in the game
Restoring buses for the BBC’s
Next drama series set in Lancashire,
But every time I visit home I drive
The extra mile or so to look at it
Next to the barn he turned into his house
Before his wife walked out.
Leyland Titan PD3.
MTJ 434C.
Enough.

It makes me very proud and very sad
And fronds, that slant of life, and stuff.