A Catchy Phrase (rev)

It was called Farm Fantastic, a catchy phrase,
and potentially a day’s wasted sweat. Even
after the event I can’t say it wasn’t, and I’m
kind of glad we went, for better or worse,
to see if it was.

Actually, I went because my Better had
prefaced a day away from the farm, her
invites are harmlessly issued, but rare.
Whilst getting there was a torrid affair,
driving home I said sincerely, you know
it really wasn’t wholly wasted, sure I’m
still short on ideas, learned nothing new.

The displayed machinery was all old
hat, I inspected a tractor (or two),
priced a few dreams, bought some
woollen socks, watched alpacas and
llamas disport themselves in the ring,
tasted some wine – the sauvignon blanc
was barely drinkable, talked to some
friends and was comfortably taken aback
when my Better said, Okay, let’s go.

Maybe I learned something new after all,
not to presume I couldn’t enjoy a day at
the fair, agricultural show, farm fantastic,
whatever…
© 2006, I.D. Carswell