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U3A Writing: A Tourist Nightmare

Some bus rides can take you higher than you would rather go, as Ray Harman's rhyme reveals.

The tour coach climbs Swiss mountains high
On roads that seem to reach the sky
Whilst views below seem heaven-sent
Its time to make that great descent
On twisting paths and sharpened bends
I really feel life's at an end
So far below the promised land
I'm glad that God's so close at hand
But as we meet the inclined slope
The driver is our only hope!
The chalet roofs they look so small
I wonder which upon I'll fall
A flowing river there I saw
Not deep enough to break my fall
But then again a useless whim
I've just remembered I can`t swim
So here I am just two bends more
To reach the ground I much adore
And as the coach comes in to land
I shake the driver by the hand
Thank the Lord we`ve all survived
He glibly answers “ It was just a drive“
So if again our paths should meet
I'll give my Wife the Wibndow Seat
Now there's a thought `What`s that I hear
An alarm bell ringing in my ears
With mountain roads still in my head
We`re safely in our hotel bed
The morning`s bright. the sun doth shine
Another day, another `Climb`


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