The Canal

I remember my childhood days Often going with a pal Where we would go and watch the boats Go up and down the old canal Where we would stand upon the bridge And watch the boats below Then would run from side to side As they would go so slow When you look into the cabin It was a lovely sight With all the brass and china plates So clean and shining bright With al the pretty paintings On the boats and watering cans Which apparently had been painted By the Bargees own hands In those days the boats were pulled By either horse or mule Some were carrying timber Others wheat and fuel When two boats were passing And the rope had been made fast One of the horses would then stop To let the other past Then as the boat wet gently on With Bargee helm in hand To keep the boat in a straight course So it did not hit the land I remember once hiding on the bridge And the pranks we played as a child Of throwing something on the boat To make the Bargee go wild A barge once jumped of the boat and chased us down the lane Although he never caught us We were to frightened to do it again Now they all are motorboats As progress has marched on We now have pleasure craft And the poor old Bargee gone By Jim Clarke Woolstone

 

Poems copyright Jim Clarke. Page put together by and copyright of
Yobunny, 1999. Updated August 2006